New Sacredhttp://newsacred.org
A United Church of Christ BlogMon, 27 Nov 2017 13:30:05 +0000en-UShourly1https://wordpress.org/?v=5.0.3American Jesushttp://newsacred.org/2017/11/american-jesus/
http://newsacred.org/2017/11/american-jesus/#commentsMon, 27 Nov 2017 13:30:05 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3587A phrase often used in church circles is that of finding one’s “Identity in Christ.” The substance behind it is that one is defined by Christ’s love for each one of us, expressed in his death on the cross. Atonement theology aside, there are major problems if the implications of such a statement go without scrutiny.

From experience, the spaces in which one hears this phrase used and exhorted are mostly White, and exclusively led by White men. However unintentionally, the leaders mold these spaces into their image. If this shaping is unintentional or passive, it is because of a flawed presupposition of neutrality.

Even good intentions, unable to be quarantined, fall prey to these behavioral and societal patterns and structures. Perceptions to the contrary come from an unawareness of the structural power dynamics at play and the assertion of exclusive invisible norms.

In the American church context, the invisible norms are Eurocentric, patriarchal, and heteronormative. These prohibit the full presence and participation of most of the world’s population in the Beloved Community.

Theologically, this is a Christological issue. Claiming or asserting an identity in Christ while being unaware of or passively (actively?) accepting structural norms is a dehumanization of Jesus. Rather than grappling with the complexities and subsequent implications of Jesus’ humanity in his historical and sociopolitical context, it is an active claim that Jesus is identified with the Powers of our day. I contend that this is at best, Christological carelessness, and at worst, heresy.

Such Christological carelessness leaves us with the defaults of our social context. It leaves only unfruitful societal values of anxiety-fueled dominance that demands to be alleviated through accumulation. It leaves us colorblind, gender blind, status blind, sexuality blind. We undercut and dehumanize people by ignoring who they are. Such carelessness leaves us finding our identity in systems of violence and oppression and calling them “Good News.” We are left with nothing but an American Jesus, one that says “woe to you who are poor,” and “bomb thosewho curse you.”

What would it mean for Christians to find their identity in Christ with an understanding of Christ’s lowliness?

Rather than a Christology that paints Jesus as on a faux-incarnational mission trip, we would have to grapple with the implications of God’s incarnation in an unskilled peasant from an occupied people. We would beg the oppressed to show us the way to Freedom.

If we are to embody Good News, we cannot find a foundational identity in a conjured figure who excludes most of humanity from their likeness. It means little to say that Jesus loves us if through our actions and the spaces we curate, we actually mean that God validates our social hierarchies. We must allow folks to join us in the complex fullness of their identities.

To the Powers, that is a most disturbing heresy.

Jordan Leahy (Lay-Hee) lives in Charlottesville, VA with his spouse, Lindsey and daughter, Ruby Day. He’s into Jesus, coffee & beer, books & music, and being outside exploring with his family. Despite his better judgment, he maintains a deep love of hockey and the Philadelphia Flyers.

Even when a wheelchair-bound friend pointed it out, I didn’t pay much attention to just how uneven sidewalks can be and how difficult to navigate. Then I became dependent on a mobility scooter and realized how significant the problem is.

Granted, many improvements have been made in the travel ways for pedestrians and mobility-challenged folk over recent years. Sidewalks still not only have rough spots like cracks and missing or crumbling sections, they slope when crossing a driveway or intersecting a street.

I was riding on one such sidewalk recently. My wife, Paula, and I had been out and about. Suddenly a number of factors conspired and before either of us could process it—let alone stop it—the scooter and I tipped over and landed at the edge of the travel way. It was, to say the least, a frightening moment.

Convinced that I was alright (one could as easily say “embarrassed to be sprawled out at the edge of the street”), I tried to get up. Paula tried to help, but given the positions of me and the scooter, getting up was proving to be a challenge.

At that moment a vehicle on the street stopped. A man got out and after making sure nothing was broken, he helped Paula get me back on the scooter.

There have been instances when I have encountered “challenges” and no “sidewalk angel” has appeared. This time one did.

We live in what more than a few call divisive, self-centered times. We are witnessing attacks on various programs for the disabled; not the least of which is funding for research.

It is enough to foster cynicism. On this day I witnessed just the opposite. The accident has made me more cautious for sure. That act of caring reminds me to give thanks for experiences of God being “a very present help in trouble,” and to do what I can to make that truth come to light in other people’s lives.

God, help us to be alert to those moments when we are open to your help being offered and ways we can bring that presence and reality to the lives of others. Amen.

Rev. Ross W.B. Putnam is an ordained United Church of Christ minister who has served churches in the Midwest, New England, and California. He is also a counselor, spiritual director, artist and poet whose first book, “An April Shower of Poems” (available through him at rwpbest@att.net) was published this past year. Currently, he is working on his second book which focuses on the emotional and life reawarding happenings of living with a neurologically debilitating disease. Rev. Putnam has been living with Parkinson’s Disease for nearly a decade.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/11/sidewalk-angels/feed/10You Toohttp://newsacred.org/2017/10/you-too/
http://newsacred.org/2017/10/you-too/#commentsTue, 17 Oct 2017 16:55:40 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3565You nodded as a friend said a woman’s dress was too short and she was asking for trouble.You rolled your eyes when a sex positive woman said she was raped because you believed a frequent yes didn’t justify her no.You joked that a queer person’s sexual assault was the reason they “liked it that way.”

You didn’t believe her story because that wasn’t your experience of him, so how could it be anyone else’s?

You justified the assault of a teenaged girl because hanging out with people older meant she wanted it.

You justified the assault of a teenaged boy because “he was lucky” that an older woman was giving him that attention.

You ignored your child’s accusation because your new relationship was more important than their safety.

You laughed when she said she was a victim because you said she was too fat for anyone to “do that” to her.

You bought them too many drinks and would use that as a coverup later.

You kept asking because you knew your ask was wearing down their no.

You grabbed them because women who danced like that knew what to expect.

You catcalled because you convinced yourself her outfit was all for your attention.

You called her a slut because her choices weren’t yours and her gender wasn’t male.

You called them a sissy because their feelings weren’t toxic and their gender didn’t conform.

You assumed your spouse was in the mood and didn’t care when they expressed otherwise.

Their autonomy. Their self-esteem. Their sexual pleasure. Their lives.

My autonomy. My self-esteem. My sexual pleasure. My life.

If you didn’t believe it, you erased it.

If you didn’t end rape culture, you became it.

You too.

You too perpetuated rape culture. You are rape culture.

And you’re the reason #MeToo is more than just a hashtag.

It’s part of my life forever.

Me too.

Marchaé Grair is the editor of the United Church of Christ blog, New Sacred, and the UCC social media associate. Twitter: @MarchaeGrair

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/10/you-too/feed/8Ready, Willing and Able for Peacehttp://newsacred.org/2017/10/ready-willing-and-able-for-peace/
http://newsacred.org/2017/10/ready-willing-and-able-for-peace/#commentsThu, 12 Oct 2017 18:41:30 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3559We were told that there would be booms. It was one of the first things that we were told about our new home. We’ll hear the booms, they said. Booms that shouldn’t frighten us or cause alarm, but are simply the noises of the military base thirty miles away.

It was just something they had said until I sat outside one morning with my book and my coffee and heard the booms. I felt the vibration each time.

The booms continued throughout the day. Cuddled in my husband’s arms that night, watching some nonsense on television, I felt the walls shake. I sat up straight.

It isn’t the first time that we’ve lived close to a military base. On the contrary, this is our fourth. We met while I was serving a church near one. We fell in love and moved to another, got married and moved again until we ended up here where the walls shake and the booms are louder than I would like.

“Did you hear that?” I begged. “What was that?”

Tilting his ear thoughtfully, almost wistfully, he listened. “Those are artillery rounds.” He said this with pride. He is, after all, an artilleryman.

It is his job to fire off rockets. And so we joke that the same fall. I was prepared to go to protest the School of Americas, he found himself at his first duty station at that very same post. I didn’t go because I was a poor seminary student, but I haven’t stopped singing then or now in the certain hope that I’m not going to study war anymore, laying down any swords or shields that might have ended up in my hands while my husband prepares for an unknown future, an unknown future where we might seek to “totally destroy North Korea.”

I have no doubt that the President is right about our military. They’re ready. They’ve been training not only for this but the war efforts our nation is already engaged in Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya, Pakistan and Syria. We are already at war. We have been at war.

It’s a refrain my husband repeated again and again at our kitchen table after a long day of doing everything he could to guarantee the best training for National Guard units while we were stationed at Fort Dix. It was a refrain I heard him lament while he attended the Command and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth last year. For a whole year, he found himself in a classroom when he really wanted to be doing his part to ensure the readiness both of himself and his peers.

Now, thirty miles from the booms, my beloved husband is training again.

It’s more than likely that he will deploy again. It could be sooner than either of us hope.

He’ll be ready.

There’s no question of that in my mind. He will go willingly to honor the oath that he took more than ten years ago to support and defend the Constitution of the United States, but no matter how strong his conviction, those booms will call me to question if all those exercises and trainings are preparing our military for total destruction. Or are they “ready, willing and able” to fight for something else, something that will make it easier to kiss my husband one last time before he boards that plane whenever that deployment might be to go fight in another war. Something like peace.

The Rev. Elsa Cook is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ who has served churches in New York City, Maine, Washington and Pennsylvania. Follow along in her adventures in ministry and writing at http://cookingwithelsa.org. You can also find her on Facebook at /elsaanderscook.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/10/ready-willing-and-able-for-peace/feed/2The Lie of White Supremacyhttp://newsacred.org/2017/09/the-lie-of-white-supremacy/
http://newsacred.org/2017/09/the-lie-of-white-supremacy/#commentsWed, 13 Sep 2017 15:00:26 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3545Several months back I was at the monthly meeting of the local chapter of Showing Up for Racial Justice (SURJCVille).

We were given the prompt to reflect on how white supremacy has hurt us as white folks. Since then, it’s been an ongoing point of reflection. In the wake of the terrorist attack in my hometown, it’s a question and topic that white folks are beginning to understand that they need to grapple with.

So, How has white supremacy hurt me?

In the most fundamental way, white supremacy has taught me to fear my neighbor through economic anxiety. The capitalist myth of scarcity demands that I must conquer and dominate space and resources, lest I be conquered and dominated. Such lines of thought are blatantly anti-Christ. It has taught me to fear my neighbors because of their skin color, religion, gender and sexual identity, and socioeconomic status. Further, it promotes fear or skepticism of anyone who is not myself. It’s taught me that all others are a threat to my well-being (that is, my resources).

This photo was taken at a “White Lives Matter” rally in 2016.

This is a lie.

White supremacy favors efficiency and emotional absence (though sometimes it tries to pretend otherwise) over consensus and presence. It believes that we cannot handle Beloved Community and the Kin-Dom of God. It praises competition as the pinnacle of human interaction.

This is a lie.

White supremacy insists that I am more qualified, entitled, and valuable than others based on my (relatively recent) genetic history. It has taught me that I should be front-and-centerto the solutions to problems that those like me created and I help perpetuate—merely by my presence. It has taught me that everyone needs to speak to me nicely and respectfully, no matter what. It’s taught me that my feelings are the center of the movement for racial justice.

These are lies.

It has taught me that I can “be all that (I) can be,” especially as long as it fits within the imperial paradigm. It has taught me that I can actually be whatever I want to be, regardless of the reality or its effects on those that white supremacy degrades with precision.

And in the Church, white supremacy prompts me to rigidly adhere to a theology of providence, allowing me to make God in my own image and feel a sense of control. Combined with the aforementioned myth of scarcity, it demands that we colonize God, creating a deity of anxious, white men. We then strive to project that on people of color, women, and sexual and gender minorities. Such theology taught me that Jesus affirmed (and affirms) these sentiments and ideas. It taught me that Jesus was a white male with the same fears and skepticisms that I have. It taught me that these were his ideas. It taught and continues to teach that Jesus was in favor of the very powers he opposed—the very powers that killed him.

These are lies.

White supremacy is a lie. It prompts us to indulge the theologically, socially, and economically unjustifiable. It is the lie at the core of our national ideology and (sub)consciousness. It is a corrosiveness that will kill us all.

Jordan Leahy (Lay-Hee) lives in Charlottesville, VA with his spouse, Lindsey and daughter, Ruby Day. He’s into Jesus, coffee & beer, books & music, and being outside exploring with his family. Despite his better judgment, he maintains a deep love of hockey and the Philadelphia Flyers. Follow Jordan on Twitter @jLeahy932.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/09/the-lie-of-white-supremacy/feed/5Seeing God Where You Least Expect Ithttp://newsacred.org/2017/08/seeing-god-where-you-least-expect-it/
Sat, 26 Aug 2017 12:00:05 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3537Unlike my husband, I had no special interest in seeing the eclipse. But he really wanted to make the short drive from our place in Beaverton to a spot where he could see the totality, and he hardly ever asks for anything special for himself. So I said I would take him. We didn’t know how bad the traffic would be, so we made plans to leave in the early hours before sunrise.

Which is why Monday, August 21 at what is usually breakfast time, I was lying on my back on a newly mown field at Maude Williams State Recreation Area, south of Dayton. As state parks go, it has nothing much to recommend it except for a fantastic view of the sky, which is what my husband wanted. I helped him set up his camera and then lay back to wait.

Around us, a couple hundred or so other people were in a festival mood – kicking around a soccer ball, playing a guitar, pulling food out of coolers. I watched a hawk circling around and around the field. After a while, put on those dorky glasses so I could see the sun overtaken by the moon, bite by bite. The air cooled and darkened, the shadows shifted and the light yellowed and dimmed.

Then, all eyes were up were up, up, up as the sun slid behind the great dark ball that was the moon. I had really just come along as the driver, to make sure Jeff’s wheelchair did not get stuck in the field, to lay out the snacks. But under that circle of darkness and light, the suddenly cold breeze bringing up goose bumps on my arms, I unexpectedly saw the face of the Creator. I tried to help Jeff change his camera lens, as we had arranged, but my hands were shaking so much I almost dropped it. My heart pounded, tears (of wonder? of fear? of joy?) ran down my face, I probably shouted.

Then, too quickly, before it hardly begun, it was over. The moon slid back, revealing one bite sized piece of the sun at a time. Around us, everyone started packing up their soccer balls and guitars and coolers. The hawk still circled. In ancient times, the eclipse was a sign of cataclysmic change. Everything looked the same, but I wondered if it really was. Something had shifted inside me, I know. A surer knowledge that God was both as close the grass tickling my legs and as vast and mysterious as planets meeting overhead.

Sometime, someone is going to ask you to go along with something they want to do, something they will assure you will be transformative. They may suggest that you go to a march, take a class, sing in public, hike a mountain trail, pray in a new way, or view a total eclipse of the sun. You may be skeptical, or indifferent or afraid. But when they ask, say yes. Who knows? Maybe you too will see God face to face, where you least expect it.

]]>Funeral Drama and a New Take on Eulogieshttp://newsacred.org/2017/08/funeral-drama-and-a-new-take-on-eulogies/
http://newsacred.org/2017/08/funeral-drama-and-a-new-take-on-eulogies/#commentsThu, 24 Aug 2017 12:30:11 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3520Until I found myself sweating in my seat, I never gave much thought to funeral drama—at least, not beyond the storylines of a few guilty pleasure soap operas. I had my own moment of turmoil though when a minister presented an innocent remark out of context during my father’s eulogy.

With a booming, animated voice that reverberated around the tiny church, she described how I had strode into her office to declare that my father was not religious. You could hear the punctuation marks leaping off her page and my heart lodged in my throat. I had said no such thing. Rather, at the beginning of our funeral planning meeting, she asked if my father was a religious man. It seemed a wholly pragmatic question and I answered truthfully.

My father’s lack of piety was hardly a secret. But it wasn’t the information she shared that made me uncomfortable but rather the presentation. What else might be presented out of context? I was suddenly dizzy with anxiety, distressed about what might come next.

I needn’t have worried. Her high-spirited opening was a segue to a wan sermon. But I remained unnerved, distracted. Stewing with irritation, I hardly heard another word she said. Where I had expected closure, I had instead found aggravation. This wasn’t the eulogy I had expected, the send-off I had planned.

The stewing continued until several months after my father’s death when I unexpectedly remembered how much he loved classic cars. How his lifelong admiration for vintage automobiles escaped me is a mystery. The standard issue hearse provided by the funeral home suddenly felt utterly inappropriate in retrospect.

I was suddenly much more sympathetic to the challenge of presenting a eulogy. Eulogies must be impossible tasks no matter the circumstances and it seemed foolhardy to have been so distraught at a few overly dramatic words from the pulpit. I had spent so much time dwelling on the minister’s failings and abruptly discovered that I had a failing of my own! How could I have forgotten to share such an important detail of my father’s life?

What if forgetting about the cars was just the tip of the iceberg? What other important stories and memories had I neglected to share at our pre-funeral meeting, stories and memories that would have brought comfort to others? I was sweating once more, but this time it was for all the things left unsaid.

My regret had a silver lining though. I realized that closure is not a responsibility you can assign to someone else, nor is it something you can provide. My eulogy aggravation was an easy opportunity to focus on anything but my own grief and I doubt that any amount of stories, any style of delivery would have brought me closure that day.

I’ve learned that a eulogy is a public moment of comfort but closure is a personal journey. The minister was no more to blame for her hyperbolic delivery than I was for my grief induced car amnesia. And I’ve recognized that I didn’t need a eulogy but rather I needed knowledge, an understanding that grief and remembrance is a process and the struggle to summarize a long life with short words is just the beginning.

Vanessa Chiasson is a freelance writer based in Ottawa, Canada. Her work has appeared in the Globe and Mail, FlightNetwork.com, Plum Deluxe, and The Establishment.

I recognize racist hatred. I recognize what it does to my brown body to hear the violence of slurs and threats. I recognize in the cadence of my heart, my ancestors’ hearts, hiding in the hills to escape capture and death. I recognize in the pit of my stomach my ancestors’ fierce, bone-chilling push to protect their loved ones. I recognize it in the way I hold my daughter a little tighter, give her one more kiss goodnight. I wrap her in my love to protect her—to shield her from the evils of racism and hate.

My fear is not new.

And it’s not brought on by Alt-Right, the Ku Klux Klan, Neo-Nazis, White supremacists, or whatever else these groups of hateful people get to be called instead of calling them what they are: terrorists.

My fear is closer to home.

I am afraid, quite simply, that watching racist violence in Virginia will make folks shake their heads in sympathy, “Wow, that is terrible. Those poor people OVER THERE.”

My fear is the thought that follows: “That would never happen here.”

I heard it this Sunday after preaching a word against racism. I read it on social media in discussions and comment threads.

I am afraid.

I am afraid that the events of Charlottesville set a new benchmark for racism: it can’t be racism if there are no crowds with burning torches, bats, and clubs seeking to threaten, to harass, and ultimately destroy.

That cannot be our measuring stick for racism.

Even in states that do not have Confederate statues to remove, we are not free from the legacy of racism that runs deep in this country.
The challenge now is to stay woke.
The challenge is to stay engaged.
The challenge for our white allies is to show up, to listen, to do the work together.
The challenge for our white allies is to do the work to recognize the power of bias in shaping our society, our actions and our thoughts.
The challenge is to not become desensitized to the racism, xenophobia, Islamophobia, anti-Semitism, homophobia, misogyny, and prejudice that are infusing our culture.

Yes, even here.

The challenge is to resist those voices that say there are two sides to every story, everyone holds responsibility, and suggest that we can blame peaceful protestors for a car being driven into their midst.

The challenge is to stay in that place that might feel unfamiliar or unsafe, a place that people of color know all too well, of recognizing that there is bias, there is racism, there is hatred in our midst.

Yes, even here!

Those of us who walk in the world as black and brown people experience it daily, are dehumanized daily, are targeted regularly. We carry the trauma of racism within us—in high blood pressure, in mental illness, in maternal and infant mortality rates, in homelessness, in poverty, in stigma.

I am afraid that if people give in to complacency, we will have missed an opportunity to build together.

There is a lot of building to do.

I am afraid that if we look away, if we give in to fatigue or complacency, we will have missed an opportunity to dismantle together.

There is a lot of dismantling to do!

I am afraid that if we believe that it can’t happen wherever we live, we won’t fight to make communities safer for me, for my wife, and our daughter.

I am afraid that white allies will not realize that their silence makes them complicit, that now is the time to speak out, to organize, to join groups, to lean in, to listen hard, and to do the hard work, together.

The word “resist: has become a buzzword lately but when I speak of resistance, I am speaking very much as a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
The Christian tradition is rooted in resistance.
We resist the powers of empire.
We resist the lies of the world, and we turn instead to simple truths: love for God, and love for neighbor as for ourselves.
Not mushy gushy easy love.
Roll up your sleeves and get dirty love.
Your liberation is bound up in mine kind of love.

Yes, I am afraid.

But perfect love casts out fear.
I hope that in the weeks and months and years to come, we will cast out fear.
That we will face the evils of racism.
That we will resist.
That we will unite.
And we will only grow stronger.

Thea Racelis is a Latina Queer Theologian and Pastor; educator, dreamer, and activist. Thea is committed to ministry from/with the margins and at the intersections.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/08/why-we-cant-be-complacent-after-charlottesville/feed/1WWJD? Put His Body on the Line for Racial Justicehttp://newsacred.org/2017/08/wwjd-put-his-body-on-the-line-for-racial-justice/
http://newsacred.org/2017/08/wwjd-put-his-body-on-the-line-for-racial-justice/#commentsMon, 07 Aug 2017 20:00:47 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3512Here in Charlottesville we have issued a call to clergy and faith leaders to join us in the struggle to dismantle white supremacy. On August 12th, white nationalists will descend upon our town in an attempt to galvanize their movement for white supremacy.

As we’ve begun to organize, we’ve often heard, “Just let them be. Don’t show up. They want attention. Let them have their rally.”

Let me be clear. White supremacy is a structure of evil. This overt display of white supremacy in our town does violence to black and brown and marginalized bodies. We will not remain silent and we will not be absent when white supremacy presents itself boldly and unabashedly. God calls for our presence.

I believe God calls us to use our bodies for justice.

I am fully convinced that Jesus would use his body to protect the most violated and most marginalized. I am convinced that Jesus would use his body to confront violence and oppression.

In story after story in the Gospels, Jesus shows up and puts his body next to, or in front of people who are despised, beaten down and violated.

And, in the ultimate form of non-violent resistance, Jesus used his body as reparative action. The state and religious powers hung his body from a tree. And because Jesus was lynched by the powers, he ignited a movement that proclaimed: We must love each other and support each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains. Love will win.

Jesus used his body to absorb violence so that others did not have to.

Many of the justice movements today are led by young people who are not particularly religious, and who have no problem using curse words and using their bodies to combat white supremacy and state initiated violence.

Church people have backed away from these movements. Respectable church people think these movements are not “peaceful” and believe they are too divisive.

But, my friends, I am convinced this is exactly where we should be—alongside those who are engaged in the difficult work of justice making

But if we refuse to acknowledge and stand with justice mongers, because their language is too strong or their tactics hurt the feelings of white supremacists, I don’t believe we can call ourselves followers of the Way.

Jesus pissed people off, y’all. Jesus was a healer, yes, but Jesus was also divisive. That’s why they killed him.

I stand by the liberating theological claim that God has a preference for the poor, that Jesus stood with the marginalized at the displeasure of the rich and powerful.

Jesus refused to be complicit with the systems of injustice that we still grapple with today. He used his body to dismantle their power.

I hope to use my body to confront and counteract white supremacy. I hope others will join me. I pray that white folks will show up to dismantle white supremacy, because it is certainly our job to do so.

Brittany lives in Charlottesville, VA with her wife Lindsay and their skeptical dog Eliza. She enjoys dancing, deconstructing destructive dominions of dominance, and alliterations. Above all else, Brittany tries to keep it real.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/08/wwjd-put-his-body-on-the-line-for-racial-justice/feed/2Dismantling From Withinhttp://newsacred.org/2017/08/dismantling-from-within/
Fri, 04 Aug 2017 20:49:21 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3504Words matter; but without action, they lose their dignity and meaning.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as a servant of the church, it’s this: We love talking about race, racism, and white privilege, especially those of us who identify as progressive Christians. But we rarely do a thing about these evils within our own institutions. While we’re fighting against the injustices “out there,” the church within often remains unchanged at its core.

If racism and white privilege/supremacy were actively being dismantled to create a more just, diverse, equal, God-reflecting church, we might be able to answer the following questions with a resounding “Yes”:

Is there equal representation of historically oppressed/underrepresented groups in all settings of church leadership (local church, middle judicatory, and national)? Have people of color made it to the highest positions within our churches and denomination in equal proportions? In other words, have people of color been able to move beyond serving at the behest of white (usually male, heterosexual, cis-gender, able bodied) senior ministers/executives/boards?

In addition to representation, is space truly made on councils, boards, and leadership structures for people of color to hold equal stake, decision-making power, authority, and respect?

Beyond representation in our current structures, are we analyzing how these structures themselves are also perpetuating white supremacy, and then working to dismantle and transform them?

Is the great wealth of the church—our assets, securities, endowments, properties, etc.—being transferred to, and utilized for the empowerment and agency of, historically oppressed groups for ministry transformation? Are these groups even aware of, or able to access, these assets?

Have we as individuals, churches, and institutions with privilege actually risked and lost anything—power, influence, status, safety, time, money, property—as a result of working to dismantle racism and white supremacy? (See Matthew 16:25 for reference.)

People of color are struggling for survival every day in this country. The church shouldn’t be making us struggle for survival too—the church should be a place where we are equal stakeholders and shapers of the present and future. Otherwise, none of us will be truly free.

There is a time for talking and educating; and that is part of the work we are called to do as people of faith. We must also continue to dismantle racism in the public sphere. But at some point, we need to start putting our money where our mouth is—literally. Who will join me and work within the church to make it a more just, more equitable, more diverse, more collaborative, more transparent, more Spirit-filled place for all?

Rev. Dr. Kristina Lizardy-Hajbi works within the national setting of the UCC as director of the Center for Analytics, Research and Data (CARD). She is committed to dismantling racism and white privilege/supremacy from within the church as a minister, researcher and statistician, and justice seeking child of God.

]]>I Won’t Worship Being Busyhttp://newsacred.org/2017/06/i-wont-worship-being-busy/
http://newsacred.org/2017/06/i-wont-worship-being-busy/#commentsTue, 20 Jun 2017 12:30:30 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3495For a few (too many) tortured months in seminary, I was working multiple jobs, taking a full course load, and doing my internship as a chaplain in a hospital. It was a season where the math just did not add up: I was putting in 20 hours at the hospital, and I was on call 24 hours once a month or so. I was working 20-30 hours. I was in class 12 hours. Reading and writing. Cooking, eating, doing laundry. Having a relationship. Trying to occasionally still be a friend. Sleeping? Socializing?

So, if you had asked me on a given day—assuming first that I happened to look up and acknowledge your presence and take the time to have a conversation—if you had asked me how I was, the answer was simple: Busy.

It’s a common refrain for too many of us.

I would go on to enthusiastically bore you with exactly how busy I was, with all the complicated scheduling, with the missed parties/concerts/movies. Because I was Just. So. Darned. Busy.

It’s easy to hide behind busy.

Busy hides sorrow, grief, and frustration.

Busy hides self-doubt, a challenging season of discernment, pride in accomplishment, and longing for God.

Busy dulls genuine enjoyment and delight.

Busy put me in control: I like feeling like I am in control.
Busy made me feel important: I like feeling important.
Busy gave me an out if I didn’t do my best because I was doing so much: I like having an out when I am afraid of success.
Busy allowed me an excuse to keep from engaging in difficult relationships and conversations: I like having an excuse to avoid vulnerability.
Busy also gave me an excuse to be a less awesome partner. Did I mention I like excuses?
Busy was a shield against the microagressions I dealt with in every domain of my professional and academic career, allowing me to prove and declare to myself, I am worthy! I belong!

As a woman of color I knew I had to work harder, put in more hours, do more. Well, I was busy and it proved to the world I could make it!

But busy was wearing down my body and my spirit.
Slowing down invited me to notice, but I had no time to move in ways that gave me joy.
Slowing down forced me to see, but I had no time to contemplate, simmer, or reflect.
I had no time to create beautiful things

Everything was go, go, go!

Busy stands in between me and my relationships: with God, with my loved ones, with potential friends and colleagues, and with my own body.

I decided after that hectic season that my personal and professional goal would be to avoid the busies.

And it may be one of the hardest goals I’ve ever set for myself—harder than when I quit smoking. I could remind myself that smoking was stinky and bad for me. But busy? Busy is social capital; it means you are important! Busy is a badge of honor.

Our culture glorifies busyness. The expectation heaped on capitalist subjects is to constantly produce. Recent statements justifying budget cuts to vital programs that protect the environment, promote the arts, and feed hungry children and seniors because they “don’t show results” highlight this thinking: Our personal, political, spiritual, and financial worth is tied to our tangible output.

Mainstream United States culture is not so good at slowing down.

I come from a culture where slowing down is a way of life. I grew up in a small surf town in Puerto Rico. It was not uncommon for a business to close because the waves were just too awesome not to ride, because it’s a good day to go fill a few buckets with the ripe mangoes falling off the trees, or because a family member had something important going on. To some people that may seem inefficient or lazy. I would call that slow-down Holy instead. These are colonial labels that have been given to my people for centuries now. I consider it a gift that other cultures can learn from.

To be attentive to the needs of our bodies, our families, our surroundings, and our spirits is not irresponsible. It is practicing attunement and prioritizing connection over calendar.

It’s getting out and playing the first warm and sunny day of spring that demands our attention.

It’s taking a personal day to enjoy and/or steel ourselves for the winter ahead during the first snowstorm of the year—sage advice from a colleague that I’ve heeded faithfully!

It’s shifting around schedules and responsibilities to be available to a friend who is in need.

It is the busyness I aspire to.

I am living in the U.S.
I am married. My wife and I have an infant daughter.
I am a friend, a daughter-in-law, a painter, a pastor, a hiker, a writer, an activist, a city human relations commissioner, a crafter, and a theologian.

I don’t always have free time to do all the things I would like to do. When I stop trying to fill every minute with accomplishment, I make time for the things that matter: for giggles with our baby, for heartfelt prayers, for time in nature.

When we give up the glorification of busy, we focus our attention where it belongs: back on the sacred pulsating life of God around us; back on the presence of God within us; back on the love of God connecting us.

I’ve watched white churches attempt to confront racism in ways their members can digest, whether it be with campaigns or curriculums. So I’d like to add a suggestion. Predominantly white churches who want to confront their racism should watch Get Out.

In Jordan Peele’s horror/thriller, a young black photographer named Chris Washington (Daniel Kaluuya) goes to meet the family of his white girlfriend Rose Armitage (Allison Williams from Girls) for the first time. The audience travels with Chris and Rose to the secluded and expansive home of the rest of the Armitages: Rose’s neurosurgeon father, Dean (Bradley Whitford); Rose’s psychiatrist mother, Missy (Catherine Keener); and Rose’s mixed-martial arts enthusiast brother, Jeremy (Caleb Landry Jones).

The Armitages appear to be the average “liberal” white family, but there is an eerie mixture of condescension and forced politeness molded into their kindness that makes Chris uncomfortable from the moment he arrives. When Chris meets the Black housekeeper Georgina (Betty Gabriel) and Black groundskeeper Walter (Marcus Henderson), who are subservient in a way reminiscent of slavery, it’s clear something isn’t right.

Chris eventually finds pictures of Rose with numerous Black men and a picture of Rose with a less hypnotized, more modernly dressed version of Georgina. The photos lead to the big reveal of the terrifying truth about Rose and her family. Rose lures Black men (and Georgina) to her family’s home so her mother can hypnotize them, and her father and brother can then transplant the brains of white people into the bodies of their new Black hosts. The process started with Rose’s grandparents, whose brains were transplanted into the bodies of Walter and Georgina. The brain transplants leave their victims in the “sunken place”: a place in their consciousness where they are passive observers of everything they say or do.

Peele’s “Get Out” is a love letter to the Black community, validating our anxiety about the racism of all liberal white people—an anxiety that is no exception for Black people who work with or worship with liberal white people in predominantly white churches. White church folks invested in anti-racism work understand that unpacking their racism (and the work that comes with it) rests solely on them and not on Black folks.

If you’re a white liberal churchgoer watching “Get Out,” here are some takeaways from Get Out that you don’t want to miss:

The Armitages perceive their close relationships with people of color as reasons they could not be complicit in racism and anti-blackness.Before Rose and Chris leave to meet her family, Rose dismisses Chris’s concern about her not telling her family that he’s Black by saying if her family were racist, she would have told him. The Armitages equate their close proximity to people of color with not being racist. They date Black people. They have an Asian man at their family party. They employ two Black people who live with them. And none of these relationships mean they don’t say racist things or contribute to racist institutions.When white people in the church put on their first #BlackLivesMatter t-shirt or start to write think pieces about white privilege, they often take on an us vs. them paradigm, presenting the false dichotomy that they are always aligned with people of color and never aligned with institutional racism. They’re so immersed in solidifying the credibility of their anti-racism work among other white people that they don’t stop to ask the Black people around them if their actions, including elements of their anti-racism work, contribute to institutional racism.Proximity to Blackness, working with or hiring Black people, having Black family members, and focusing on telling anti-racist narratives doesn’t mean you can’t ever be racist.

Using the talents, bodies, and creative vision of Black folks without empowering them as leaders is exploitation and appropriation, not affirmation. What better way to illustrate cultural appropriation than literally allowing white people to choose a Black body to wear as a permanent costume? In “Get Out,” the Armitages sell Chris to a blind art dealer who is familiar with Chris’s work. Instead of choosing to empower Chris or invest in his work, the art dealer would rather be Chris.Instead of looking at Chris’s art as a combined result of his lived experience in the world and his raw talent, the art dealer assumes if he has Chris’s eyes and body, he can exist as a photographer in the world exactly as Chris has.When white leaders use the existence of Black bodies to suggest diversity within their churches yet have no Black leaders within their local churches or institutions, this is tokenism and not empowerment. When the innovation of historically Black music, worship, and preaching styles can infuse energy in your pews but the people behind the pulpit are rarely Black, you are showing the ability to appropriate, not affirm.

Forced assimilation is spiritual assault. Thriving, thinking, authentic Black people aren’t allowed to exist in the world of the Armitages. Black people are mined for their brilliance or athletic abilities, and then once the Armitages evaluate how those skills can benefit white people, the Black person is victim to a brain transplant, with their free will forever trapped in the sunken place.Much of this film is a symbolic representation of the forced assimilation Black folks have to navigate for survival, and this phenomenon is no different in the church.Black folks in the church can only combat racism in ways that make white people comfortable, or else they will be seen as combative or aggressive. Yet white folks can co-opt that same language to call out other white people’s racism and be treated as revolutionary. When white people ask Black folks to use their talents, passion, or activism to center white feelings and culture and not their own authentic expressions, they are forcing spiritual assimilation.

It is not okay for white people to support callouts of racism yet shut people down when their own racism is called out. Throughout most of “Get Out,” Rose apologizes for the microaggressions Chris experiences and seems to “get it” when he needs to leave. Yet, we find Rose to be part of her family’s racist experiments, and we realize that if she was going to call anyone out, she should have started with herself.Rose reminds me of white church folks who think they’ve been completely set free from their racism. They call out racism so much that they forget to call themselves out. Yet, when a Black person questions the racism intertwined with a decision they’ve made or challenges something they said or wrote, the person’s default reaction is to be offended, instead of listening. They get so used to calling out other white people’s racism that they can’t process a Black person calling them on theirs. Callouts of racism are like a truth-telling telephone. If you can make outgoing callouts of racism, you should understand you’ll also receive incoming callouts as well.When your predominantly white church is looking for its next anti-racism curriculum, I hope “Get Out” is On Demand. The movie’s unparalleled wit, metaphorical genius, and unapologetic callout of liberal racism is exactly what white Christians need to see in an America that touts the alternative fact of being “post-racial.”

Marchaé Grair is the editor of the United Church of Christ blog, New Sacred, and the UCC social media associate. Twitter: @MarchaeGrair

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/06/what-white-christians-can-learn-from-get-out/feed/5When Did Rex Tillerson and I become Such Good Friends?http://newsacred.org/2017/06/when-did-rex-tillerson-and-i-become-such-good-friends/
http://newsacred.org/2017/06/when-did-rex-tillerson-and-i-become-such-good-friends/#commentsThu, 01 Jun 2017 19:41:56 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3468

When he was chairman and CEO of ExxonMobil, Rex Tillerson agreed that climate change was real. He is not a climate denier. Exxon endorsed the Paris agreement. He does work for a President who thinks climate change is unreal. Can a denier work with a non-denier? More broadly, can people like me befriend people like Rex Tillerson? Is there enough basis for us to cooperate or is the widely discussed American divide too much for our friendship?

As Secretary of State, Tillerson holds wild power. I hope he is as unpredictable as his boss.

The basis for people like me and people like him to be allies, if not friends, follows.

I panic at the idea that the Paris agreement will be annulled. I know it will take a while to undo it, literally till the next election at the earliest, unless the Senate gets involved. I even know that other forces, some as strategic as the international agreement, will get stronger, if the President likely prevails in an act of cruel stupidity. The biggest companies in the world are actively involved in clean energy policies. Calvert Research just issued a report, called “Power Forward 3.0,” which showed that 240 companies now have climate related goals, up from 215 three years ago. They include Prudential Financial, Wells Fargo, Dow Chemical, Apple and many more. None of these companies are necessarily my friends. But they are my allies.

I also watch states like California and countries like China set gorgeous goals for themselves. When the big Paris agreement is stupidly annulled by the United States, that annulment will only accelerate other states’ and countries’ participation. Rex Tillerson, an intelligent globalist, and I, a prayerful pope-following globalist, hope the United States will find itself on the positive side of history, not the negative. We will join Nicaragua and Syria in being the third country not in support of the Paris agreement.

Furthermore, why would a nation state like the United States insult the international community or the Pope who also heads a large international organization?

While panicking at the idea of non-participation in the beauty of the Paris agreement by my beloved country, I appreciate the trans-national approach that Tillerson appears to be taking. He is widely quoted as understanding (duh) that air and water and birds have no national boundaries and that the climate problem has to be resolved globally not nationally. He appears to understand that the Paris agreement was a trans-national solution. Why President Trump would want to go national about a global problem is beyond me. But I don’t understand much of what he does. Hurting sick old people is almost as heinous as hurting nature.

A word about nature. I love it so much that I am highly motivated to make friends with people who associate outside of my usual group. Why wouldn’t I walk back and forth across the American divide as often as possible? Why wouldn’t I join the birds in not understanding a national border or a political one that puts people in aisles as though that’s where we were meant to be?

I write in the name of the ferns and the porcupines, the orchids and the grasses, the unborn children and the forest. They can’t speak for themselves. And the President is their enemy as he annuls Paris’ great hopes for nature. Perhaps Mr. Tillerson and I share a common love of nature, so common that we can’t not defend the earth we love? Out of that love, we cross the divide. We become allies and we could even be friends.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/06/when-did-rex-tillerson-and-i-become-such-good-friends/feed/2Why People Think the Church Hates Sciencehttp://newsacred.org/2017/06/why-people-think-the-church-hates-science/
http://newsacred.org/2017/06/why-people-think-the-church-hates-science/#commentsThu, 01 Jun 2017 13:00:03 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3461I put on my clerical collar and drove the rainy streets to Lancaster, PA, suddenly regretting ever signing up to speak. I was sure that these people didn’t want to hear from a pastor, and with good reason too.

I never wanted to be a pastor.

Churches are complicated and pastors always look tired. I always thought some other sucker could do that job; I wanted to be a rocket scientist.

My whole life was leading up to a career of rockets and robots when suddenly, when I was 17 years old, a switch went off in my mind and I couldn’t understand Calculus anymore. In my frustration, I felt that gentle but firm tug of the Spirit telling me that my worst fears had come true. She wanted me to become a pastor. I had fought it for years, but the current of the Spirit is strong and I was swept up in it.

Over the next decade, I found God, lost my faith, embraced secular humanism, rediscovered my love of science, found God again, discovered a faith that was informed by science, stumbled into the UCC almost by accident, and discovered that I wasn’t alone here.

So when a local clergy friend told me about the March for Science, I knew that I had to be there, representing both halves of my paradoxical self—the spiritual side that regularly experiences the unknowable Spirit of the Living God and the rational side of me that demands peer reviewed sources for extraordinary claims.

I think it’s possible to be a scientific mystic, though I’m sure folks on both sides would disagree with me. That’s why I knew it wasn’t enough to march, I also had to share my story. Luckily, the Lancaster PA “March for Science” was looking for more speakers and one of the organizers was a Christian.

Thanks again, Spirit!

Most people at the march had been burned at some point by the Church, put down for asking too many questions, or belittled for choosing to believe testable hypotheses over a book of ancient mythology.

I steeled myself against the inevitable comeuppance from the crowds, but was instead greeted by enthusiastic selfies and the almost universal sentiment, “You’re not really a priest, are you?”. It was easier to believe that a person had bought clerical clothing as a joke to compliment their protest sign than it was that a pastor was actually standing in support of science. Folks couldn’t seem to understand how I could march with them since they only heard religious fundamentalists thumping the Bible and insisting that their literal interpretation was the only interpretation. My heart was broken.

On a side note, the electricity wasn’t working and the microphones were useless, so since I was already standing up on a raised planter in the middle of the crowd leading chants, they asked me if I would be able to give my speech without amplification. After a few minutes of yelling, someone handed me a megaphone. A group of mostly non-religious people actually gave a preacher a bullhorn on a street corner so that they could better understand what he was yelling at them. I will never not love that irony.

After my speech, I had dozens of Christians come up to me to thank me because they thought they were the only ones there.

We Christians who believe that science is real are more numerous than we think and we are allowing the outspoken Biblical Fundamentalists to drive the debate and create the false narrative that their interpretation is the only one. So many of the scientific hot-topics in this country are based on this false dichotomy, and we who disagree need to stand up and make our voice heard for every single spiritual skeptic who thinks they are alone.

Zack Jackson is the pastor of Community UCC in Reading PA and an adjunct professor of theology at Palmer Theological Seminary. He is not a real scientist. More like a science groupie. He cares deeply about spreading scientific literacy and engaging honestly about faith and science. Check out his blog if you want to join that conversation at http://musicalspheres.blog

We do a lot of surveys at the national level of the United Church of Christ to help gain information about and assess who we are and how we want to be church together. In most of our surveys, we ask people completing to give us information about who they are and what their racial and/or ethnic origin is. We seek to gather information not only about who we are, but about who is taking our surveys. It’s a vital part of data collection, and as the Center for Research and Data Director Kristina Lizardy-Hajbi says, sharing this information is one of the ways in which we live out our covenantal relationship in the United Church of Christ in transparency and honesty.

So a funny thing happens when I get to see the back end of all these surveys. Going into this question, we then start to get answers like, “human” or “race is made up” or even “does not matter.” People have a lot to say about the audacity to ask about their race. And nearly universally, these people are white.

Choosing to believe that race doesn’t impact our society means that we are ignoring the very real impact that it has on bodies of color and people who are darker in melanin. Refusing to talk about whiteness, or being white, or owning the fact that I AM white means that we can neatly keep this under wraps and choose not to see the impact that the social construction of race has, for example, on employment rates within the United Church of Christ.

Collecting information about race and ethnic origin enables the United Church of Christ to be honest about who we are, who our members are, and who we call into leadership. It allows us to look at the data of who we are in the current moment and the trends over the course of time. Regardless of whether we want to engage the whiteness within our denomination, there is no doubt that we are more reflective of the kindom of God when we have more difference among us in any capacity of being. Certainly, in 2017, and in America, being attentive to racial and ethnic diversity is absolutely essential to our continued faithfulness as stewards of the kindom of God, today.

So I’d rather talk about race. And ask about race. And know that when I answer that question as “White/Euro-American,” I am naming my own racialization as part of the construct— and part of the construct that leaves people like me the privilege to choose to talk about it.

Rev. Chris Davies is the curator of Queer Clergy Trading Cards and serves the United Church of Christ as the Coordinator for Congregational Assessment, Support and Advancement. Her academic work is in queer proclamation.

I’m not saying every white man in the Trump Administration, or every white male pastor in the country is intentionally working against women’s rights.

But here’s the thing.

Because they are white and hold positions of power, when white men in government, and white male pastors in the United States (and even in the United Church of Christ) are not intentionally and loudly advocating for all women’s rights, then they are effectively being complicit in silencing women and their health care needs in our country.

The pervasiveness of issues that disproportionately affect women in our country is staggering and deserves outrage and advocacy, not silence.

So I ask you: Are you talking about these issues in church? Are you designing faith formation lesson plans to give an alternate message to violence in relationships? Are you having Bible studies to lift up faith-based messages of equity and hope? Are you providing outreach programs imbued with justice-filled actions?

Use your power to create a culture where relationship equity is the expectation—instead of double standards regarding sexual activity, financial and emotional burdens for contraception falling to female-bodied people, and social stigma being born by the person with a uterus. Advocate for community agencies to maintain government funding for health care and family planning services.

Stop blaming women, overtly or by your silence, for being sexually assaulted.

Stop spending money trying to teach them how not to be assaulted. Instead, use those funds and your privilege and power to loudly educate yourselves and your brothers on the gender roles, stereotypes and privilege that lead to attitudes condoning women being raped. Work to make consent the norm and expectation. Advocate for funding for health care services to survivors, regardless of when the assault occurred.

Stop blaming women, overtly or by your silence, for domestic abuse.

Instead, work to dismantle the culture of male violence, to cultivate norms that revere men for being peaceful problem solvers and healthy partners. End stigma about discussing these issues, and advocate for funding for health care services for those who have survived violence in relationships.

The question is, what are you NOT doing? What are you not talking about? What are you not actively advocating for? And why?

Find your voice and use it loudly. Lives are depending on it.

Amy Johnson, MSW, CSE is on national staff as the United Church of Christ Our Whole Lives Coordinator. She is co-author of Homegrown Faith and Justice and Our Whole Lives for Grades 4-6, 2nd Ed. She is passionate about promoting safe and healthy sexuality education and culture in faith communities.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/05/your-silence-is-shouting-your-values/feed/6Why I Can’t Be Cautious with My Lovehttp://newsacred.org/2017/05/why-i-cant-be-cautious-with-my-love/
http://newsacred.org/2017/05/why-i-cant-be-cautious-with-my-love/#commentsFri, 19 May 2017 12:30:05 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3443Thea Racelis - The worst advice I heard was the warning to be cautious with our love. ]]>Late last year my spouse and I got the call we’d been waiting for. We had been chosen! After a long process to become licensed pre-adoptive foster parents, we had been matched with a sweet little baby who was coming home that same evening.

She arrived on a rainy/snowy evening just after dark. The social worker’s car pulled into our driveway, and we were waiting like children at the window, rushing out to meet her before she could even open her door. Baby was in a car seat with a fuzzy cover keeping her warm and safe from the drizzle. My spouse brought her up with tender excitement, remarking at how light the bundle was. We welcomed the worker into the house, our eyes focused on that infant carrier as we peeled back that zipper to see the tiny face of a child who instantly stole our hearts. It was love at first sight as we took in her full head of hair, her beautiful skin, her strong wide nose, and, when she finally woke up, the beautiful bright eyes that brought tears to ours.

Our placement is considered a high legal risk because parental legal rights have not yet been terminated. This means, in practical terms, that adoption is not a given. The system believes it may happen, but it is not guaranteed.

I have learned that few important things in life come with guarantees.

With the arrival of our precious little one, also came a parade of professionals: social workers, advocates, attorneys, physical therapists, more social workers, all with their own roles in our unfolding adventure.

Everyone had wisdom to share with us.

Some of it was standard advice: “Cherish the moment, slow down, take naps.”

Some of it was legal advice: “Attend hearings, even though it’s not required of you.

Some of it was just flat out terrible advice.

The worst advice I heard was the warning to be cautious with our love.

“You know this is risky. Be careful.”

When faced with life’s many uncertainties, the answer is never going to be “love less.” If that’s the answer you come up with, you are asking the wrong questions.

There are a million terrifying things that can happen in the world that could lead to losing a child—biological, adoptive, pre-adoptive, god-child, student, sobrinx, or little friend.

Children are born with diseases. Children are exposed to toxins; they are poisoned by drinking water in our own country.

Children are lost to SIDS, children are lost in custody battles, and children are removed by courts.

Children are harmed in accidents.

Children die in chemical attacks in other nations while the U.S. argues over which lives are worthy of entrance into our country and which ones are not.

Mothers’ babies are shot down on their way home from getting skittles and iced tea.

Miscarriages happen, leading to the loss of the long-anticipated one; infertility robs families of dream-child possibilities.

I will continue to start my day waiting for my baby’s first bright smile, or even better, a toothless bark of a laugh—she’s still working on her giggle and it is a wonder to behold!

My baby’s first smile of the day, followed by a flurry of kisses, sets the tone for me to go into the world. This is my morning devotional. It is my daily reminder of God’s presence and awesomeness.

Every day we get to share will start with this prayer: “Let the giggles be all the amen I need.”

*If you feel called to become a foster or adoptive parent I encourage you to look up your local department of children and family services and ask about how you can become a foster or foster-to-adopt parent. It isn’t safe but it’s worth it!

Thea Racelis is a Latina Queer Theologian and Pastor; educator, dreamer, and activist. Thea is committed to ministry from/with the margins and at the intersections.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/05/why-i-cant-be-cautious-with-my-love/feed/3Searching for the Fountain of Youth Grouphttp://newsacred.org/2017/05/searching-for-the-fountain-of-youth-group/
http://newsacred.org/2017/05/searching-for-the-fountain-of-youth-group/#commentsThu, 11 May 2017 13:00:18 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3436Jeff Nelson - What happened to those lively discussions about something besides fruit salad?]]>My senior high youth group was bright, engaged, eager to share opinions, and compassionate.

I still carry those days with me as my entrance into Christian discipleship: the informal yet passionate conversation mixed with opportunities to participate in service projects were my first, lasting taste of what it means to be part of the church.

I believe that many others who have been a part of youth groups could say similar things. But after graduation, that energy disappears and something else takes its place.

After years of talking about the issues of the day from worn, plaid chairs, we’re encouraged to sit around a committee table and help figure out how much fruit salad to order for an upcoming dinner.

After years of embarking on service trips, we’re told that there’s only so much time and money to devote to adults doing such things (and the kids have to raise their own funds for that, anyway).

After years of guitar-accompanied songs around campfires and concerts attended, we’re told to sit still in wooden seats to sing hymns played a beat too slow on an instrument we’ve only seen in our grandmother’s living room.

What many were taught to expect from the church in youth group is not what they find once they reach adulthood. Something of the dynamism; the sense that spiritual exploration is an adventure; the excitement of a call to go forth and help those who look, act, or believe differently from us is left behind on the youth room foosball table.

If—and this “if” gets bigger every year—our youth return to the church after they graduate high school, the church would do well to consider its demand for younger generations to conform to something wholly different from what they’ve been immersed in.

What happened to those lively discussions about something besides fruit salad?

Where are those chances to follow Jesus by helping others outside the sanctuary walls?

And most importantly, where is the living and active Spirit of God who once seemed so evident in the youth room, the soup kitchen, and the fire pit sing-along?

“Well, of course it’s still there,” the objection will come. “It’s just not the same.”

And to many, that difference is the problem.

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He is author of the book Coffeehouse Contemplative: Spiritual Direction for the Everyday. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture at http://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/05/searching-for-the-fountain-of-youth-group/feed/1Hold the Sign Up High and the Door Wide Openhttp://newsacred.org/2017/04/hold-the-sign-up-high-and-the-door-wide-open/
http://newsacred.org/2017/04/hold-the-sign-up-high-and-the-door-wide-open/#commentsFri, 28 Apr 2017 14:26:52 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3428A picture of the marquee at Wantagh Memorial Community Church (Long Island, New York) reached the top of a social media website called Reddit. For context: Reddit’s user base is big. Really big. In the last 30 days, it was the 4th most popular website in the country and 16th most popular website in the world, getting about a million unique visitors per day. Reddit’s content is 100% user-submitted, and users then vote on content to decide its fate (think a virtual “thumbs up” or “thumbs down” system). Wantagh’s sign received 89,000 “upvotes” and, for a short but powerful moment, the sign was as viral as you can get.

This is fascinating, considering Reddit is decidedly non-religious and often atheist. Frankly, the sign’s success is a bit of a miracle.

In some ways, I get it. I was not raised in the church.

I attended Black Forest Community UCC for a few years as a kid, but I didn’t really want to go. My parents didn’t either, but my grandparents attended, and we Kiblers are a guilty people.

Then, to my 12-year-old horror, my mom sent me to La Foret, a UCC summer camp in Black Forest, Colorado. As a surly, oddly shaped, hormonal adolescent, I expected to be bullied, or at best, ignored. I was NOT going to sing. “They’ll Know We Are Christians By Our Love.” Seriously? No thanks, I don’t feel well.

And then, to my dismay, I loved it. For the first time, my peers welcomed me into their conversations and invited me to play sports (poorly). I was shocked to see other campers safely share emotions. The adults asked questions without prescribing answers. I couldn’t believe it. From then on, I attended every single camp I could, and returned to volunteer as an adult. Now, at 34, I work for the Rocky Mountain Conference—UCC. So, you could say camp had an effect on me.

It’s not lost on me that it could have gone differently. If not for that first camp, I may well have grown into a surly, resentful adult, forever questioning my own worth and place in this world. What’s most rattling is that for many, this is reality. Unlike me, who got lucky, they never experienced the UCC’s radical welcome. They don’t truly feel worthy of being loved or included. Many of them are angry or jaded or both.

Over several years of non-scientific research, I have discovered that many of these same angry, jaded people are on the Internet.

Maybe the Reddit post convinced someone to check out a UCC church. That’s a nice thought. But at the very least, it briefly affirmed the million people who logged in that day and clicked the top post. What could be better than telling a million people at once that they deserve unending grace and kindness?

May we always hold the welcome sign up high for anyone who would look, and the door wide open for anyone who would enter. May they always know we are Christians by our love.

Cory Kibler is the Director of Communications Ministries with the Rocky Mountain Conference—UCC in Denver, CO. He loves music, books, his family, and going outside. He tells a lot of zingers.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/04/hold-the-sign-up-high-and-the-door-wide-open/feed/3The Isolation of Painhttp://newsacred.org/2017/04/the-isolation-of-pain/
http://newsacred.org/2017/04/the-isolation-of-pain/#commentsFri, 14 Apr 2017 11:24:47 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3420I recall sitting in my office late one afternoon in February. No one was around, and I was focusing the best I could on finishing what I needed to complete by the end of the day.

I paused. As I sat in the quiet office, tears streamed down my face almost uncontrollably.

I knew that after work that day, I wouldn’t have much energy for anything else. I couldn’t gather with friends meeting up and had to let them know, once again, that I wasn’t well enough to join them. I had little strength to spend on housecleaning. Exercising was out of the question. Every time I saw a local justice rally posted on social media, I clicked “interested” but knew that I probably wouldn’t be able to attend because my energy would be gone by the end of the day or week. My top priorities remained work (which I was still able to do) and healing with rare escapes into the world, dining out with my boyfriend or slowly strolling around a park.

The beginning of 2017 brought pain in my pelvis that grew worse and worse. No longer did it appear every few weeks, but all day, every day. As the weeks progressed so did the intensity. I could not avoid surgery anymore.

I felt misunderstood, like a failure, and as if I let people down.

“No one gets this,” I would think to myself. “Does God even understand?”

I struggle with endometriosis, a condition in which the tissue inside my uterus has migrated to my entire pelvic region. I was first diagnosed during a laparoscopic surgery in 2003; I had a second surgery in 2013. Some estimate that ten percent of cisgender women and gender non-conforming people worldwide struggle with this illness; transgender men also endure the effects of this disease. I feel fortunate that I have been able to work through my pain, but many people wrestle with this disease much greater than I have as they endure multiple surgeries per year and face infertility.

While I have loved ones and friends who care dearly, I have struggled to convey to them the depth of my chronic pain. I have felt isolated, as if no one can understand what I’m going through—of how hard it is to focus on using my limited energy most productively. Sometimes I have to force myself to work through the pain just to feel like I appear normal to others. Even now I struggle to find the words to describe this feeling of isolation. It has infiltrated my soul and robbed me of moments and connections I can never regain.

Logically, I know God has not forsaken or abandoned me—but pain lies to me and tells me I am alone.

While my pain has never been near what Jesus experienced on his last somber Friday, as I listen to the Passion story year after year, I begin to realize that Jesus absolutely understood human pain and the isolation that results from it. Through Jesus, I feel that I am allowed to live into the roller coaster of being fully human. As he borrowed the lament from the opening lines of Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” I am also given words to express our physical and emotional pain.

Through Jesus, we are all granted the permission to belt out our frustrations to God while in anguish.

Are you enduring the isolation of pain?

How have you vented your distress to God? What are you doing to care for yourself? To whom have you reached out? Have you lost friends in your struggles with pain because you keep having to cancel plans? In what activities can you still engage and how have you embraced what you can and can no longer do?

Both before and after my surgery, I have spent time writing about my experiences. Blogging has diminished my sense of isolation. Perhaps sharing about my painful journey will bring comfort to others who have endometriosis or other painful conditions. I know that reading others’ stories and reaching out to people with similar experiences has brought me comfort and peace.

Maybe you are not the one enduring chronic pain, but maybe your loved one is struggling. God calls us to reach out to anyone who hurts, for when the Body of Christ hurts, all of us hurt together. The Spirit calls us all to pastoral care, not only by praying, but by visiting with those who feel isolated.

My surgery was many weeks ago, so my pain is mostly gone. Slowly, I am regaining energy and reconnecting with friends.

Maybe this winter of feeling forsaken and wilderness is now turning into a springtime of resurrection and reconnection.

Rev. Michelle L. Torigian is the pastor of St. Paul United Church of Christ, Old Blue Rock Road in Cincinnati, Ohio. Prior to ministry, Torigian worked in fundraising and marketing for nonprofits as her previous career. She graduated from Eden Theological Seminary in 2010. Torigian is the author of a number of articles on the Huffington Post Religion page including “Between Childless and Childfree,” a reflection for Mother’s Day. Recently, her essay “Always the Pastor, Never the Bride” was published in the book “There’s a Woman in the Pulpit” (Skylight Paths Publishing, 2015). Torigian regularly posts her musings on current events, justice issues, pop culture, and theology at www.michelletorigian.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/04/the-isolation-of-pain/feed/3A Maundy Thursday Protesthttp://newsacred.org/2017/04/a-maundy-thursday-protest/
http://newsacred.org/2017/04/a-maundy-thursday-protest/#commentsThu, 13 Apr 2017 18:36:39 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3413Brittany Caine-Conley - Why are so many Christians so afraid of protest?]]>Today, on Maundy Thursday, I am attending a vigil for a trans woman of color, Sage Smith, who has been missing from my community since 2012. There have been several young women who have gone missing in Charlottesville, VA, a college town that is home to the University of Virginia.

While the other missing young women, white cisgendered college students, rightfully garnered national media attention, community support and exhaustive efforts from law enforcement, Sage has been largely forgotten by many in my community. The Charlottesville Police Department continues to deadname Sage, misgender her and treat her family with disrespect.

Today I will attend a vigil outside of the police department. Other people of faith will be with me, declaring Sage a child of God who deserves our tears and our time and our hearts.

But the majority of Christians in Charlottesville will not be at the vigil. They will not lend their presence or their prayers. They will not #sayhername.

The press release for the vigil is clear in its call to the Charlottesville Police Department to end its racist and transphobic failure to devote time and resources to a full investigation of Sage’s disappearance. The press release is also clear about the implications of holding the vigil on Maundy Thursday:

“According to Christian tradition, Maundy Thursday is remembered as the night when Jesus, under imminent threat of death from the institutions of power of his day, asked his friends to stay awake with him and keep watch, yet none did. Today, Christ continues to dwell among us in the faces of all who suffer as a result of systemic injustice. We particularly recognize Christ among us in Sage and all trans women and femmes of color who are daily subjected to violence as a result of their race and gender identity. Many Christians continue to remember the biblical story of Maundy Thursday each year with a vigil. Today, we will keep watch in front of Charlottesville Police Department as we continue to wait in the expectation that Sage and her family will receive the justice they deserve.”

We, the vigil organizers, received pushback from Christian leaders, who claimed the press release spoke more about a protest than a vigil. They might consider participating, they said, but wanted to make sure that this religious event was actually a vigil, and not a protest.

Due to religious conceptions and political alliances, they will not honor Sage.

Why are Christians so afraid of protest? Why do we cry out for justice but cringe at the thought of ruckus, disturbance, inconvenience or discomfort? Why are we willing to pray quietly for deliverance but not willing to use our bodies and our voices to help bring deliverance to at-risk populations?

Why can’t we realize that a vigil on Maundy Thursday for a trans woman of color is, in every way, a protest?

Even without a coordinated direction action, or collective shouting, or painted signs, simply creating and holding sacred space for Sage is a protest. It is a protest against religious systems and religious people who banish others to hell on earth. It is a protest against governmental organizations that hold up white and cis supremacy. It is a protest against the violent religious and political systems that lynched Jesus of Nazareth.

Today, I follow the way of Jesus by praying for and crying with the outcasts of my community. I follow Jesus by protesting racism and transphobia.

Brittany lives in Charlottesville, VA with her wife Lindsay and their skeptical dog Eliza. She enjoys dancing, deconstructing destructive dominions of dominance, and alliterations. Above all else, Brittany tries to keep it real.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/04/a-maundy-thursday-protest/feed/2Love in the Face of Fearhttp://newsacred.org/2017/04/love-in-the-face-of-fear/
http://newsacred.org/2017/04/love-in-the-face-of-fear/#commentsThu, 06 Apr 2017 13:00:41 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3405Skyler J. Keiter - Despite my fears, I found myself standing outside the White House in a show of fearless and defiant love.]]>I have spent a significant portion of my short life living in fear, terrified of the people around me. The fear is not unreasonable; I face daily stigma from being openly transgender, I spent my school years being bullied relentlessly, and have been sexually assaulted and verbally harassed on multiple occasions. Following the election, I have found myself facing even more fears, including the fear of losing my life to someone who believes that my gender identity is a threat to public safety. But despite my fears, I found myself standing outside the White House in a show of fearless and defiant love. The colorful sign that I hung around my neck read “LOVE in the face of fear and hate – FREE HUGS.” I stood in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue, arms outstretched, and waited.

Young and old, black and white, male and female, they came to me. Some were wary, and some ran out of their way to throw their arms around me, but all who stopped were grateful for human touch and a little extra love.

There was a group of four men from South America who stood looking at my sign with open confusion. They didn’t speak much English, but when one of them figured out that I was giving hugs they swarmed me. Each man wanted a hug and to take a selfie with “the hug person” to send to their friends back home.

I had been nervous about the secret service agents nearby, but that anxiety dissipated when one of them wished me luck and another told me that he wished he were off duty so that he could hug me.

A photographer for the media risked being late to a meeting because he thought it was more important to document what I was doing. As he said “My job requires me to cover stories that people don’t want to hear. I want to photograph something that will give them hope.”

A mother and daughter talked to me at length about their fears about being female in this political climate. Multiple times they expressed their wish to have the courage to resist. I said that simply showing acts of love is enough to do just that.

Love one another.

It’s Jesus’ highest commandment, a cornerstone of the church, and yet it can be hard to practice in daily life. It seems like a simple command, but in a world where so many people are considered “other,” second-class, or even subhuman, it is easy to let hatred rule over love. Loving thy neighbor – every neighbor – is difficult, especially in the face of so much fear and inequality.

Sometimes it is easier to hate than to love those around us. Love requires a certain openness and vulnerability. Inevitably, love will sometimes lead to hurt. But to minister through love is to do the work of God in the world. Open your arms, open your hearts to every neighbor – every person – and you open your heart to God.

Skyler J. Keiter is a member of First Church Amherst (UCC) in Amherst, MA and a student at the University of Massachusetts where they study forensic anthropology. In their free time Skyler enjoys playing with their dogs, climbing and skiing down mountains, and smashing the gender binary. Follow them on Instagram at skyler_jay_28.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/04/love-in-the-face-of-fear/feed/2When Brown Hands Can’t Bless Youhttp://newsacred.org/2017/03/when-brown-hands-cant-bless-you/
http://newsacred.org/2017/03/when-brown-hands-cant-bless-you/#commentsWed, 29 Mar 2017 12:30:14 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3398Thea Racelis - What do you when you could help someone but their own prejudice keeps them from seeing you?]]>When I was training in a hospital as part of a cohort of chaplains, we were each assigned units and it was expected that we would visit, or at least attempt to visit, each of the patients in each unit. Some of us had systems we followed: leave the NICU ward for last because you get to pray with babies, walk through the ER before finishing your day, pray for guidance to know what room to enter, do the left then the right, or go systematically room by room. I was usually the latter.

Visiting people who are sick enough to be in the hospital means that we are seeing them at what might be one of the worst moments of their life. They are often scared, they are often in pain, some are facing mortality, some are facing long recoveries, some are facing the frustration of being back again for an illness that isn’t healing, some are coming here to die surrounded by family, and some are alone and unnamed.

As spiritual caregivers, we prepare for this. We prepare for heartbreak. We prepare to face rejection. We prepare to face hostility and even anger. There was the sister whose sibling was moved out of intensive care earlier that afternoon and supposed to be on his way to recovering when he suddenly stopped breathing. No amount of medical intervention could bring him back. Her 3 a.m. screams pierced the unit.

The look she gave me was pure hatred; I was representing the God that, in her mind, took away her last living family member when she finally went home to shower after keeping vigil all day. When she yelled, “Fuck you!” I thought she had a good point. I shielded the nurses and medical staff standing in for the God that failed her. It was holy work. It was not about me.

What we didn’t prepare for was the racism we would encounter in patient rooms.

One of my colleagues is a black man, and I still remember the first time he got kicked out of a patient’s room for being black. He came back to our shared office space looking a little ruffled. He shared what happened with a wry smile. He laughed it off, but we both knew it hurt.

I didn’t encounter racial slurs. The racism I encountered was subtle if no less pernicious. It was the assumption that, as a Latina, I was there to empty bedpans, deliver food, or clean up a mess. I would explain that I was from the spiritual care department so I wasn’t able to help them with that, but I could pray with them or just chat.

I was summarily dismissed.

Then there were the male patients who wanted to talk about how they had a “Spanish” girlfriend in their youth and how “Spanish” girls were so hot. Because as a Latina, those are the two tropes available to us: cleaning or being sexy.

My well-dressed, handsome, white male colleague with the winsome smile would get mistaken for a doctor. Me? I was the help.

So, what do you do with that? When you have help to offer, you see someone that clearly needs it, but their own prejudice keeps them from seeing you as a source of support or spiritual care—how do you keep going from room to room remembering, “This is not about me”? Remembering that the 90-year-old person who only knew people of color as servants is going home to glory soon and you are not going to change their mind. Remembering that it is not about you, it is not about you, it is not about you.

It is not about your mother with the thick accent and the rich brown skin. It is not about your great-grandmother with a second grade education who could still keep the books and know if a single cent went missing. It is not about my ancestors, running to the mountains to escape from Spanish forces who would enslave them, surviving by becoming inaccessible. It is not about my people surviving colonialism and the message from the white conquerors in their strange-sounding English that somehow we needed rescuing from our savagery, that somehow we needed them to teach us that we were ignorant and lazy and hypersexual.

It is not about my years of hustling, trying to get a job, turned away with a suggestion that I try taking care of children or cleaning houses.

It is not about that.

But it is.

It always is.

It is about the segregation within hospital staff that reinforced divisions along lines of race and class. I cried and hugged the nurses aids when my training was done because they had been the friendliest people there—the ones to let me know when a patient was delusional, the ones to call me over when a family was in distress, or when a patient didn’t speak English and was scared. They were the ones to tell me about their families and ask for prayers, which I gladly prayed. They were the ones to share snacks with me and laugh.

But there were divisions all around me.

The nurses were also very kind but they were not Latinx. We shared important moments, but I would soon be replaced by a new trainee and they didn’t have time to bond with me. The doctors didn’t usually acknowledge me. When they did, I took note. They were usually the doctors with a gentle bedside manner who made eye contact with the patient, who asked questions and even listened to the answers.

I expected that illness would be the great equalizer. After all, we all face our own fragility when we are ill. We all have to deal with our bodies and realize they won’t last forever.

But some people will go to their graves holding prejudice and division tight; they will die with racism held close and they won’t want a blessing from a brown minister.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/03/when-brown-hands-cant-bless-you/feed/8Should the Headlines Make Your Sermon?http://newsacred.org/2017/03/should-the-headlines-make-your-sermon/
http://newsacred.org/2017/03/should-the-headlines-make-your-sermon/#commentsMon, 27 Mar 2017 12:30:55 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3389Jeff Nelson - Should preachers only make sermons based on the news?]]>If you watched this year’s Super Bowl, you might remember several ads that lifted up messages of inclusion, diversity, and kindness. They were reportedly in production for months, but given the nationwide atmosphere they seemed especially relevant, drawing expressions of gratitude from some and derision from others.

The thing about these ads, though, is that none of them mentioned any politician or hot-button issue by name. They simply painted a picture, even though many ended up reading current events into them.

They didn’t have to reference specific issues to promote love. But their messages were still pitch-perfect for our national moment.

But not all who prepare weekly sermons feel free to take this approach.

“If your pastor doesn’t mention this issue this Sunday, get up and walk out.”

“Preachers had better be re-writing their sermons this weekend after what just happened.”

“Your church is irrelevant if the sermon this Sunday isn’t about this policy change.”

I’ve seen sentiments like these shared on multiple social media platforms lately. The call for those in pulpits to address specific events set in motion by the new administration has been constant and strong. Many Progressive Christians long to hear those entrusted with the Ministry of Word take on the issues of the moment. Embedded in this longing is usually the implication that if a preacher does not directly engage the news cycle, they (and by extension, their church) are not fulfilling their vocation as disciples.

I understand. The old saying attributed to Karl Barth that one should preach with a Bible in one hand and a newspaper in the other is one that has endured for good reason. If the church is not wrestling with how to live its calling in real-time response to current events, it faces the danger of becoming Jesus’ proverbial salt that has lost its flavor; worthless to a world that often could benefit from a voice of reassurance and peacemaking, as well as challenging us to be about the work of love and justice.

And given that the weekly gathering of the people for worship continues to be the most visible and obvious opportunity to hear such a voice, it becomes natural for many to expect that the application of Bible to newspaper take place in that moment. The more pointed, overt, and prophetic, the better. Anything less than this would be unfaithful, especially in these current times when a new outrage seems to come every day.

But by adopting this approach to sermon preparation, preachers risk several things.

First, it will inevitably lead to a steady stream of “Saturday night specials” where only the headline the day before sets the weekly rhythm. This constant waiting until the last minute threatens to wear on one’s spiritual, mental, and physical health, to say nothing of how it might cut into time spent with family or observing Sabbath.

Second, it will place the preacher into a writing mode that is solely reactive, where our national climate dictates our message rather than the work of also listening to God’s voice through the scriptures and reconciling them with the particular needs of those who will gather to listen.

Times will come that call for sermons directly aimed at something that has happened in the past week—events or issues so devastating or all-consuming that will be at the forefront of people’s minds.

Newtown. Mother Emanuel. Drastic and draconian changes to immigration policy. They will require us to give a faithful response because they’re too big to put off.

But most weeks will call for painting a picture of what the people of God are meant to be about: welcome, service, breaking down walls of suspicion and hatred, and loving neighbor and enemy alike.

And if we preachers do our work right, a lot of that is going to sound like it’s speaking to our current times, whether we mean it to or not.

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He is author of the book Coffeehouse Contemplative: Spiritual Direction for the Everyday. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture athttp://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/03/should-the-headlines-make-your-sermon/feed/1Trumpcare ‘choices’ are an affront to faith-based valueshttp://newsacred.org/2017/03/trumpcare-choices-are-an-affront-to-faith-based-values/
http://newsacred.org/2017/03/trumpcare-choices-are-an-affront-to-faith-based-values/#commentsWed, 22 Mar 2017 15:09:20 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3379J. Bennett Guess - This new-found talk of “choices” is a a betrayal of Christian values, a scheme designed to lull the most vulnerable into supporting a health care law.]]>U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary Tom Price spends a huge amount of time these days talking about “choices” in health care, and how he’s committed to ensuring you will have more of them.

Be it the choice to join the 24 million Americans estimated to lose coverage, or the choice to be kicked off or denied access to Medicaid, or the choice to rely on your cash-strapped state for assistance, instead of the federal government, there will be so many options for you to consider.

Should you lose your employer-based insurance, you’ll be faced with lots of choices, like the option to pay more for less coverage, should the Affordable Care Act be repealed and replaced with Trumpcare. On average, premiums would be expected to increase 15 to 20 percent in the next two years, predicts the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office.

There’s also the choice of going without health insurance altogether, looking instead to the local emergency room as a choice of last resort. That choice, of course, will result in the rest of us choosing to pick up the tab, in the form of higher costs for everyone.

The proposed American Health Care Act (AHCA), or Trumpcare, allots tax credits up to $4,000 to help low-income families purchase coverage, meaning that the most disadvantaged will be choosing how to purchase insurance with about 65 percent less in government subsidy, as currently offered.

But, as Price sees it, that provides choice — a choice not unlike how to care for grandmother when federal subsidies for Meals on Wheels are ended, or choosing how to feed the kids when free and reduced school lunch programs are suspended. So many choices.

Young women and men who rely on Planned Parenthood for basic health care, family planning, and cancer screening services will have the choice to find medical care elsewhere, and at much-higher cost, when Planned Parenthood is defunded under Trumpcare. If you’re an older adult, you’ll be choosing what in the world to do when insurance companies can charge you up to five times what younger people pay.

There will choices if you’re wealthy too, like how to spend the extra $37,000 in tax savings realized when Trumpcare is enacted. The super-rich — the top 0.1 percent — will be deciding how to spend an additional $207,000 in reduced taxes.

Every family will have choices. Lots of them.

“They’ll have choices that they can select the kind of coverage that they want for themselves and for their family,” Price says, a talking point he and others have been repeating endlessly.

It reminds me a lot of what an auto dealer once said to me. I could choose any car on the lot that would best suit me and my family, but only if I could pay for it and he was offering no vouchers. Yet SUVs and health care access are false equivalencies. The former is a nice thing to have; the latter is essential to being an evolved, equitable civil society.

Your life-saving cardiac bypass matters just as much as your neighbor’s chemotherapy, and your kid’s tonsillectomy is no more important than any other kid’s, because access to medical care is a basic human right, rooted in God’s commandments to love all, not a luxury parsed out only to those who can afford it.

“The AHCA is simply a complicated strategy to shift costs from the affluent to the less well off,” says Wendy Mariner, a lawyer and medical doctor, and a professor of health law at Boston University. “… It demands a complete repeal of assistance to those in need.”

Or, as the prophet Isaiah preached it nearly 3,000 years ago: “How terrible it will be for you who write laws that make life harder for other people. You take away the rights of the poor. You hold back what is fair for people who are suffering. You take for yourselves what belongs to widows. You rob children whose parents have died.”

All this new-found talk of “choices” is a mockery, a betrayal of Christian values, a scheme designed to lull the most vulnerable into supporting a health care law resulting in worse coverage for them, at greater personal expense, to the benefit of the wealthy who will continue to enjoy Cadillac care for less.

The Rev. Dr. J. Bennett Guess is vice president of the United Church of Christ’s Council for Health and Human Service Ministries.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/03/trumpcare-choices-are-an-affront-to-faith-based-values/feed/6How My Son Skipped a School Party, and Schooled Me in Boundarieshttp://newsacred.org/2017/03/how-my-son-skipped-a-school-party-and-schooled-me-in-boundaries/
http://newsacred.org/2017/03/how-my-son-skipped-a-school-party-and-schooled-me-in-boundaries/#commentsWed, 22 Mar 2017 12:30:26 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3368Ruth Ebenstein - My son just modeled something that had taken me decades to learn. How to set boundaries.]]>“He doesn’t want to go,” my husband said.

I was expecting a call about sweatpants. Should we challenge our headstrong six-year-old to change into dress pants for that afternoon’s celebratory siddur party, where he would receive his first Jewish prayer book? Or just let it slide?

“He wants to skip the party,” said Yonatan. “He’s got a face full of tears.”

In less than an hour, our youngest son was slated to march with 100 first-graders, two by two, under a canopy of off-white prayer shawls tied together onto a makeshift stage at his elementary school in Jerusalem. He would don a navy felt tie, sing some Hebrew songs, twirl through a few dances and then receive a cloth-covered siddur, embossed with gold. Afterwards there would be sticky lips and fingers from a cake decorated like a prayer book and the requisite bag of treats.

This was our third siddur party in four years; I knew the melodies and routines by heart. Still, I was just as giddy that afternoon as I was on the day of my first-born son’s siddur party three years earlier.

Because a siddur party is a coming-of-age experience, a rite of passage. It marks the end of one developmental stage, and the beginning of another. A child transitions from someone who is read to—to someone who can read. When he receives that Hebrew prayer book that has been handed down for generations, his first “adult” book, he joins a traditional chain of Jewish people who pray.

A siddur, from the Hebrew word for “order,” is a fixed text that contains the liturgy for daily, Sabbath and holiday prayers. Though there have been innovations, its basic format was worked out during the Gaonic period. I got a thrill thinking that some variation of the book Rav Amram Gaon had put together in Babylon about 1100 years ago would land in the hands of my little boy. A native Hebrew speaker, he could read and understand some of those very same prayers.

Still sparkling in my psyche were the fireworks that dazzled me when I had learned to read. The world, suddenly at my fingertips, accessible to my mind! A rush, akin to falling in love. Attaining Hebrew literacy and Jewish literacy added another layer of magic and purpose. All of the freshness percolating in the promise of reading joined together with the comfort I could glean from prayer: from the possibility of a direct conversation with the Creator.

Each one of us, an equal voice before God.

Even my husband, a university professor who was ordained years ago as an Orthodox rabbi and now felt more at home with Darwin, got misty-eyed thinking about our youngest child joining the siddur-owning ranks. He cancelled a work commitment so that he could attend.

For weeks Amit had rehearsed songs like “The Traveler’s Prayer” and “The Angel Who Redeemed Me.” I sent a hand-written dedication with quotes from psalms to be glued on the prayer book’s inside cover.

It was 4:49 p.m. The party was starting in 41 minutes.

“I don’t think we should force him,” said Yonatan.

For a moment, I pictured Amit receiving his siddur. Applause. Lights flashing.

Exhilarating for me. And for most other kids.

But not for him.

For Amit, stressful and intimidating.

In this respect, my son was an enigma to me. I love the limelight. Today I’m a public speaker. But my husband was a shy boy who would have skipped chanting his bar-mitzvah Torah portion had he been given the chance.

I paused to think. Was Amit sagely passing on a showy party that wasn’t his style—or running away from a challenge he ought to work through? And if the latter was true, were we the enablers?

More than one kindergarten party had ended in tears. We had just assumed that he would outgrow his performance anxiety by elementary school. I never thought to explore the meaning behind his emotions.

It was clear that we needed to understand Amit’s reasoning and process, and support him to fight his fears. But my gut told me that we shouldn’t push him.

“Okay. So, no siddur party,” I told my husband.

My son just modeled something that had taken me decades to learn.

How to set boundaries.

How to say no.

How to do what feels right for you even when it goes against the forceful push of the crowd.

How often do we do what’s expected of us when our heart cries out for something else? My son knew intuitively what my therapist had labored to teach me: Saying yes to something you don’t want to do is saying no to yourself.

Instead, we stayed home. Just before the party, Amit’s lovely teacher slipped out of rehearsal to hand-deliver his siddur. While his classmates danced a few numbers and belted out Hebrew songs on stage, Amit played checkers with his older brothers and ate Ben and Jerry’s. The next day in school, nobody even asked about his absence.

On Saturday, Amit and I walked to synagogue, holding hands, his pristine prayer book resting in a cloth bag between us. We headed right into the sanctuary. Amit plopped down in the seat next to me, lunging for his siddur. He opened it to a bookmarked page. His brown eyes shining, cheeks glowing pink, Amit recited the Shema, one of the best-known and most fundamental expressions of Jewish prayer:

“Hear O Israel, The Lord is our God, the Lord is One.” Following with his finger, he read more verses from Deuteronomy 6: 5-9.

Listening to my little boy daven, as they call it in Yiddish, I understood that a six-year-old can get excited about a siddur even without the party.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/03/how-my-son-skipped-a-school-party-and-schooled-me-in-boundaries/feed/4#THISisChristian: It’s Time to Take Back Our Faithhttp://newsacred.org/2017/03/thisischristian-its-time-to-take-back-our-faith/
Thu, 16 Mar 2017 12:00:42 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3347Marchaé Grair - People can only hijack our faith for hate if we late them.]]>I am fed up. And I hope you are too.

Under the guise of moral outrage, the “religious right” justifies breaking up families with travel bans and immigration raids, telling transgender children they don’t have the right to safely use the restroom, and attacking a person’s right to have affordable and accessible health care. People use the name of God as a reason to deny service to LGBT customers and deny women choices about their reproductive health.

No more.

Our faith is built on the legacy of a savior who said to “love our neighbor as yourselves.” Antagonizing people who don’t look or love like us and denying people a decent quality of life doesn’t seem to fit that narrative.

It’s time to reclaim Christianity to mirror the life of a loving, oppression-fighting, greed-hating Jesus.

So keep tweeting. Keep posting on Facebook. Keep speaking up and speaking out. People can only hijack our faith for hate if we late them. Remind people that your goodness and your advocacy are informed by you Christian faith. Let’s show people how Christianity looks.

With rampant physical and emotional violence, many individuals live in a psychological war zone. They learn to be constantly on the defense when parts of their identity put them at risk. At any given time, 24.4 million Americans are suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

We need places that don’t just offer to protect us physically, but also emotionally and spiritually.

Ideally these are places where you can let your guard down. You can be yourself without fear of harassment or violence. As a queer woman and a victim of sexual assault, I’ve used these spaces to process and heal, and to better understand who I am. I surround myself with other LGBTQ folk or other women who understand the impact of sexual assault, and I feel safe to reveal who I am and what I’ve gone through. Therapy is also a safe space for me and, occasionally, so are small groups at my church.

One of the major arguments against the creation of safe spaces is the notion that they threaten free speech. In 2016, the University of Chicago’s Dean of Students wrote a letter to incoming students explaining the school’s “commitment to academic freedom means that we … do not condone the creation of intellectual safe spaces where individuals can retreat from ideas and perspectives at odds with their own.”

Some people feel that guarding students against opposing viewpoints does them a disservice; students can’t learn to defend their own beliefs and tolerate opposing opinions if they are protected from them. Those who oppose safe spaces often write off students advocating for protection as being overly sensitive. One religious studies professor wrote in the Atlantic:

Trigger warnings and safe spaces are terms that reflect the values of the communities in which they’re used. The loudest, most prominent advocates of these practices are often the people most likely to … label arguments against affirmative action as impermissible microaggressions. These advocates routinely use the word “ally” to describe those who support their positions on race, gender, and religion, implying that anyone who disagrees is an “enemy.”

I’d argue that anyone who doesn’t understand the need for allies probably has never needed one.

The president of Northwestern responded in favor of safe spaces. He argued that “students don’t fully embrace uncomfortable learning unless they are themselves comfortable. Safe spaces provide that comfort.”

These spaces can enhance the freedom of speech by protecting those who need this freedom the most: those whose voices have been historically marginalized.

The need for safe spaces should not be limited to universities. If any place is going to offer psychological protection, shouldn’t it be the church?

How can the church create a safe space?

By prioritizing people over theology or politics. We can keep each other safe only by setting aside any worldview disagreements and prioritizing healing and love.

By becoming educated about all manner of oppression. We should know how our communities are being impacted by various forms of oppression.

By listening rather than speaking. We should be asking trauma survivors what they need to feel safe and to heal.

Regardless of people’s good intentions, safe spaces inevitably fail. For example, a group might be sensitive in one area but not another: offering conscientious dialogue around racism or gender discrimination, but not realizing ways that they are ableist.

Not everyone will agree what a safe space is or how to create it. What makes one person feel safe might leave another feeling exposed.

The best we can do is try to make it a little better, a little safer for everyone else.

The church has a longstanding history of being a sanctuary: a place of refuge. In one of my favorite Bible passages, Jesus says, “Come to Me all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Offering rest is a way of taking care of one’s neighbor. Offering protection against bigotry is a way of valuing all people as beloveds of God.

Jera Brown is an MFA candidate at Columbia College Chicago. She blogs about being a queer polyamorous Christian on her personal blog and edits a multifaith site offering queer perspectives on the future of faith communities at sacredandsubversive.net.

]]>When Hate Attacks and Love Strikes Backhttp://newsacred.org/2017/03/when-hate-attacks-and-love-strikes-back/
http://newsacred.org/2017/03/when-hate-attacks-and-love-strikes-back/#commentsFri, 03 Mar 2017 18:30:25 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3343Jennifer Brownell - People may hate you for your inclusive views. Love anyway.]]>A couple Sundays ago, I had the chance to worship at Park Rose United Church of Christ in Portland, Oregon with a group of confirmation students on retreat. I was really looking forward to worshipping with pastor Don Frueh, who I suspected brought the same energy and joy to his preaching that he does to the rest of his life. Sure enough, the service was full of song and spirit.

Until, that is, worship was interrupted by an unplanned intruder. A white man, in a shirt with “God” written in shiny letters on front, walked up the aisle clapping loudly and shouting, “Listen up! Listen up!”

At first, I’m pretty sure most of the congregation thought he was a plant, a visitor brought in by Don to illustrate the theme of the day, “embracing otherness.” But when the man reached the chancel shouting about the dangers of “homosexuality,” accusing Don of telling lies and demanding that he sit down, it became clear that this was an uninvited guest, not an invited one.

A few members of the congregation began to circle the man. I don’t know what I was thinking when I joined them. Maybe of what I kind of support I would have wanted in such a situation. Maybe of the confirmation class in the second row, for whom I was responsible.

I do know I was very afraid.

There was more shouting, and it became clear that no dialogue was going to be possible. After a minute, which felt much longer, I helped escort the still shouting man back down the aisle, out the church door.

I expected him to be talking about hiring security guards or installing surveillance cameras. Knowing him, I shouldn’t have been surprised that my colleague and friend Don was talking instead about love and radical welcome.

The plan going forward for him was not to retreat into a secure fortress. The plan going forward was to love more. The plan going forward was to continue to extend a radical welcome. “We do not have to accept abuse,” Don says, “but we do have to follow Christ’s gospel, which is love.”

The next day the man was gone, his words no longer even echoes in the sacred space he tried to desecrate.

The next day, all that’s left was this—Christ’s gospel, which is love.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/03/when-hate-attacks-and-love-strikes-back/feed/2Self-Care is Not Just for Clergyhttp://newsacred.org/2017/02/self-care-is-not-just-for-clergy/
Mon, 27 Feb 2017 16:54:32 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3332Elsa Cook - “There is good news in remembering among lay people and clergy alike that we are only human.”]]>In the wake of the presidential inauguration, with the tsunami of executive orders that immediately followed, I have watched as my friends on social media have retreated. One by one, they’ve announced they are taking a break. They need to rest. Their souls must retreat.

Of course, as these posts appeared on Facebook, that pesky comment box beckons for a response. Some comments are blessings for renewal. Some offer courage and solidarity. Others admit that they’re feeling the same pull and then… then there’s that person who insists upon engagement. Full of finger wagging shame, this person curses the rest that even God requires.

After all of the chaos of creation, God retreats. God takes a break. God declares sabbath rest and there is no one around to advise the divine that there is still work to be done.

Adam and Eve may have felt the weight of the world upon their shoulders having just been told to “be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28, NRSV). But, God does not seem worried. God sees everything created and believes that it is all so very good.

God still holds that conviction about you and me and this whole creation, but you might not be so sure. You might find yourself constantly refreshing your newsfeed, pushing through the busy dial tone at your legislator’s office and even gearing up for another protest this weekend. There is work to be done because there is so much that is not very good. It is this burden of responsibility that has made self-care such a mantra in clergy circles. Still, just as there are finger wagging posts on Facebook, there are those in the clergy who believe that self-care is selfish.

Lillian Daniel explains in Christianity Today, “It seems that at every ordination or installation service I attend there is a charge given about clergy self-care. One minister stands up and tells another minister that they know they are about to work themselves to death, so resist the temptation. ‘Take your day off…set boundaries…don’t try to be all things to all people.’ All this is done in front of an audience of lay people who are supposed to be impressed that we clergy would need such a lecture. It has become a cliché, and seems to have trumped prophecy, theology and the love of Jesus.”

As cliché as it may or may not have been in clergy circles, it’s what lay people are talking about all the time now. It’s advice given in Slate and the Huffington Post. The New York Times is even recommending that this is the moment for a self-care vacation.

The repetition means something. It is not selfish nor does it mean that the prophetic love of Jesus takes a break. But, instead, there is good news in remembering among lay people and clergy alike that we are only human.

We might aspire to the ways of God. We might try to see goodness in everyone and everything, but even God needed to rest after all that God had created. Just as Adam and Eve were trusted to continue every good work, we have to trust that God will be fruitful and multiply too.

This is good news for tired people. My spiritual director reminded me of this and her words are worth repeating: “Rest, renew. Keep a Sabbath hour/day free of the deluge of news and social media. You do not have to do all the things. Repeat after me: ‘I do not have to do all the things.’ You get to fall apart, to weep tears of sorrow, to escape into Netflix, or whatever it is you do. And then, you can reemerge, even reluctantly, to take up the work and let someone else rest.”

The Rev. Elsa Anders Cook is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ who has served churches in New York City, Maine, Washington and Pennsylvania. Follow along in her adventures in ministry and writing at http://cookingwithelsa.org. You can also find her on Facebook at /elsaanderscook.

After planning to attend the Women’s March on Washington, attending the march, and processing what happened at the march (and other marches across the world), I have decided that we, white women, are much like the apostles of Jesus.

After the death of Jesus, the apostles set out to expand his movement that proclaimed the prisoners would be set free and the blind would see. We can give the apostles credit for leaving their homes to march toward the unknown.

However, we can’t forget that the apostles were courageous part of the time, confused a lot of the time, and at many points, they distrusted the radical, upside-down path that Jesus forged for them.

The apostles made mistakes (especially that douchebag, Judas) and sometimes forgot that the movement was not about them

One of my favorite parts of the gospel of Matthew is when Jesus shouts to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan!” Jesus had just told his apostles that he would be betrayed, tortured, and killed. Peter, bless his heart, was distraught by the idea of Jesus’ death, so he proclaimed, “Never, Lord!” He wanted to help Jesus—to change Jesus’ fate—but he ended up offending Jesus by refusing to accept his personal truth.

White women, this is us.

This isn’t ALL of us ALL of the time, but if we can’t or won’t recognize that we are like Peter, then our wellintended actions toward people of color will consistently become microaggressions. When we only center our own narratives within the fight for justice, we can’t comprehend or accept the truth spoken by women of color.

Like Peter, we do and say things that we think are helpful. We do and say things that make sense from our perspective and within our contexts. By prioritizing our experiences and our desires, we further marginalize the needs and experiences of women of color.

I went to the Women’s March and I’m glad I did. I’m glad the Women’s March happened. It was a momentous occasion in the face of oppressive government. BUT, I want white women to hear why many women of color refused to march, were disappointed by the march, or were harmed by marchers.

Read this blog post by my friend Alicia about why she didn’t attend the march. Consider if your pink pussy hat represents the bodies of all who are female identified. Read this Facebook post by Lakeshia Robinson about the violence she encountered while trying to attend the march.

White women, the critiques and truths we hear from women of color do not negate our own struggles. We have faced misogyny and have been held down for most of our history. Now that many of us have marched, we must continue to resist the patriarchal systems that bind us.

But hear me when I proclaim that patriarchy and misogyny are bound up with white supremacy. To fully march toward freedom, we must stand behind and stand beside women of color. We MUST follow them, we must honor them, and we must listen to them and believe them when they speak truth about our aggressions.

Follow women of color on Facebook and Twitter. Read Roxane Gay, Prisca Dorcas Mojica Rodriguez, and Michelle Alexander. Listen to everything Angela Davis has ever said. Learn more about the women who started the #BlackLivesMatter movement. Pay more attention to Women’s March co-chairs Linda Sarsour, Tamika Mallory, and Carmen Perez.

If listening to truth telling by women of color makes you feel uncomfortable or sad or guilty, sit in those feelings for a while and wrestle with them. I’m sure the disciples felt that way all the time.

Brittany lives in Charlottesville, VA with her wife Lindsay and their skeptical dog Eliza. She enjoys dancing, deconstructing destructive dominions of dominance, and alliterations. Above all else, Brittany tries to keep it real.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/01/get-behind-me-satan-white-women-and-our-well-meaning-aggressions/feed/7The Church is Too Afraid of Deathhttp://newsacred.org/2017/01/the-church-is-too-afraid-of-death/
http://newsacred.org/2017/01/the-church-is-too-afraid-of-death/#commentsMon, 30 Jan 2017 13:30:27 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3314Jon Beren Propper - I want a Church unafraid of death.]]>If you’ve been paying attention, feelings about American politics, presidential or otherwise, are… let’s say divided. This division is rooted in different visions of our nation’s values, its history, and what should be its future. Furthermore, American Christianity has become a microcosm of this divide. While many look to the Church for moral clarity, many are distraught at the in-fighting and judgmentalism they have found instead. What is actually going on, and what does this say for the future of Christianity?

Church attendance is in decline across the country. American Christianity has been at the mercy of evangelical Protestantism for decades, but a cultural shift away from magical thinking has led to many churches being shuttered, salaries cut, and clergy-people out of work.

A common (and somewhat valid) observation about progressive churches is that our membership decline has been sharper than that of our conservative friends. For critics of progressivism, this decline means the mainline churches are doing something wrong. These critics seek to improve their own chances of survival by a hard turn toward the opposite end of the ideological spectrum.

Yet in an effort to save themselves from obscurity, some churches have endorsed or chosen to ignore hate speech. They have “doubled-down” on opposition to loving, monogamous same-sex relationships. They have advocated for the elimination of women’s health care—not just abortion services. They have served as the laugh track while people with disabilities were mocked on live television.

They have also vacuum-sealed their churches and conferences from the vast majority of Christians around the globe, choosing to ignore rather than address the changing times. They’ve also used political bullies to validate and expedite this approach. The term for this is “circling the wagons,” though many Christian bullies prefer the expression, “renewing our faith.”

But renewal doesn’t sound like hate speech.

Reaffirming our commitment to the Gospel doesn’t look like a Klan rally.

Asserting the fundamentals of Christianity doesn’t have to be brainwashing.

When Christian leaders endorse and bless those who embody hatred… when they celebrate those who see bullying as a tool for success… when they are willing to grant pardon to those who daily demean others while ignoring the homeless or deriding the HIV-positive…. the Church suffers.

We live in a results-oriented society, the kind that says the end justifies the means. When this logic is applied to the Church, however, we should be troubled.

The Christ tells us that “the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it” (Matthew 7:14b). Some have used this verse to justify everything from anti-Semitism to using fear tactics in conversion. Look closer. As the Christ speaks further, he warns us to fear the coming of “false prophets”—those who appear to be righteous, but are secretly “wolf-like” and “ravenous.” To celebrate these wolves in exchange for political power, all because we fear the Church won’t survive without it – these choices betray our doubts. They say to others, “We don’t buy any of this Jesus crap either, and we never did.”

I want a Church unafraid of death – a Church willing to lose its financial assets, its fair-weather membership, its political influence, and its social status in the pursuit of what’s right. A “let this cup pass, but not my will” Church.

This is what it means to follow a Christ who was slaughtered by a bigger, better-equipped Empire. To feel ourselves being swallowed by Rome, but refusing to despair. If our own Christ has prepared the way, then whatever victory may look like in the end, we can know it has already been secured for us by our Unpopular Savior.

“You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever” (Psalm 16:11).

Jon Beren Propper is an educator and author serving a United Church of Christ congregation in West Michigan.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/01/the-church-is-too-afraid-of-death/feed/9Scratch a Liehttp://newsacred.org/2017/01/scratch-a-lie/
http://newsacred.org/2017/01/scratch-a-lie/#commentsThu, 26 Jan 2017 20:04:41 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3310Patrick Duggan - Surely our justice-making creativity goes beyond the convening of polite gatherings of socially conscious colleagues.]]>The new President of the United States devoted years to spreading false information about his predecessor. He is prone to exaggeration and hyperbole. A self-professed billionaire, the new President refuses to disclose tax returns and detailed financial records. He has in turn, appointed billionaires and millionaires to his cabinet who have not disclosed their financial records. These men are heralded as “successful” for having navigated themselves to the pinnacle of capitalism. And yet with all their success, they have not completed government documents that over 230 million Americans file each year. Instead, they offer excuses that a school teacher would not accept from a child who claims that ‘the dog ate my homework.’

Scratch a lie, find a thief.

We may be unfamiliar with the ways of larcenous men, but let us not be distracted by the audacity of well-spoken lies. Let us not devote our energy to venting about the deception of smiling plutocrats. Let us pivot quickly to pursuits that transform our lives and the lives of millions. Let us devote our energy and our talents to creative justice-making.

No, not the justice-making “lite” of loud protests in the streets without long-term political strategies; not the justice-making show of self-congratulating MLK-Day breakfasts, nor the political hiring of just enough brown people for a nice photograph. And definitely not the justice-making nostalgia of ecumenical, multi-racial worship services, where we cross hands and sing three verses of “We Shall Overcome.” These moments have their place. But surely our justice-making creativity goes beyond the convening of polite gatherings of socially conscious colleagues.

In this season of apparent defeat, as we see the deception, let us make an unapologetic pivot. Let us do MLK-deep justice-making where church leaders focus on justice as economic parity for all people, then leverage church wealth and property to lead the development of failed economies in inner cities. By faith-led revitalization initiatives in the poorest American neighborhoods, let us amplify the duplicity of billionaires who clamor for cutting taxes to spur investment while hoarding billions they refuse to invest now in rural and inner city America. Let us demonstrate by the ways churches deploy assets for mission, that accumulated wealth invested in poor people and communities can make America greater than it ever has been.

We church folk dismiss our complicity in evil systems. By our inaction, we are complicit in the political and economic status quo of our country and the world. We are broken in the ways we do church without caring about the impact we make (or do not make). We ignore the sin we commit when we fail to live up to God’s calling. We have blood on our hands.

But let us, in all of our brokenness, demonstrate like the biblical widow with the few coins, what we can do with the meager resources God has entrusted to us. In defiance of liars and thieves, let us invest the millions the church controls in economic justice, to leverage billions and trillions for social impact in the broader economy. Led by the Spirit of truth, let us live out Jesus’ saying that when we are weak, then we are strong.

The Reverend Doctor Patrick Garnet Duggan is a native New Yorker, the son of a Jamaican cabinet maker and a New York attorney. He serves as Senior Pastor of the Congregational Church of South Hempstead UCC and Executive Director of the UCC Church Building and Loan Fund. He loves writing, preaching, teaching, helping church leaders with difficult building projects, and talking about how the church can use its resources to change the world. Twitter: @revduggan1

]]>http://newsacred.org/2017/01/scratch-a-lie/feed/1The Holiness of Swearinghttp://newsacred.org/2017/01/the-holiness-of-swearing/
Fri, 20 Jan 2017 13:30:11 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3305Michelle Torigian - Swearing with the people you trust the most or in the presence of God may help us move from a place of anguish to hope.]]>During the recent Advent season, a group of budding theologians decided to blog each day using various swear words and melancholic expressions. F**k This Sh*t gave voice to those trying to express themselves in authentic and raw ways. As the editors note on their page, “To convey a visceral Gospel, we must sometimes use visceral language.”

To many of us, 2016 was a terrible year. A cloud dangled over the world, from the distressing bigotry, to this year’s demoralizing election cycle, to genocide in Aleppo. If tragedy wasn’t happening to us, we knew it was happening to our neighbors.

Hearing profanity can make you wonder if it is morally wrong or has cathartic value.

We ask ourselves, “What are the best ways to lament in seasons so dismal? Could profanity be the means for us to move from a period of deep melancholy to one in which we are free to dream?”

Sometimes, a cathartic purging of emotion is one in which we can move to a new place in our lives. Psalm 142 notes that David pours out his heart to God through his song saying, “With my voice I cry to the Lord; with my voice I make supplication to the Lord. I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him” (verses 1-2, NRSV). During his perilous time, David empties his soul to God.

If we empty ourselves in front of God with the words that best reflect our souls – even if they are unconventional prayer words—we may be able to transcend what holds us back.

Swearing in front of God may be something that reflects a level of intimacy with God that is only reserved for those closest to us. Wouldn’t the Divine want us to have a relationship with us in which we can say anything that is on our hearts? Wouldn’t God want us to name our greatest pain with words that best describes it?

If we don’t look at swearing as if it’s misusing God’s name, but instead expressing our greatest laments to God, we may be able to ease some of our emotional and spiritual pain. Additionally, studies show using profane words can reduce physical pain. In 2009, Keele University published a study notating that those who swear “could endure pain 50% longer than civil-tongued peers.”

When I refer to swearing I am absolutely not speaking of words that denigrate another race, gender, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, or ethnicity. Using these words never helps us grow with God or neighbor. Additionally, if one speaks profanity, the more responsible choice is to speak these words with mature people you trust the most—not people you mentor, parent, or have power over.

While swearing isn’t acceptable in every circumstance, it may be a tool that God has given us to bear discomfort, abide in the wilderness, and grow closer to the Divine in the process. Swearing in the presence of God may help us move from a place of anguish to hope.

Rev. Michelle L. Torigian is the pastor of St. Paul United Church of Christ, Old Blue Rock Road in Cincinnati, Ohio. Prior to ministry, Torigian worked in fundraising and marketing for nonprofits as her previous career. She graduated from Eden Theological Seminary in 2010. Torigian is the author of a number of articles on the Huffington Post Religion page including “Between Childless and Childfree,” a reflection for Mother’s Day. Recently, her essay “Always the Pastor, Never the Bride” was published in the book “There’s a Woman in the Pulpit” (Skylight Paths Publishing, 2015). Torigian regularly posts her musings on current events, justice issues, pop culture, and theology at www.michelletorigian.com.

]]>Faith Without Sex: What Does It Mean To Be Asexual and Christian?http://newsacred.org/2016/12/faith-without-sex-what-does-it-mean-to-be-asexual-and-christian/
http://newsacred.org/2016/12/faith-without-sex-what-does-it-mean-to-be-asexual-and-christian/#commentsMon, 26 Dec 2016 13:30:24 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3298Jace Paul - Hopefully, as our denominational understanding of marriages and family have grown, we’ve moved past that antiquated notion that God’s plan for marriages must include children and sex. ]]>I recall being at a youth group event and hearing my pastor correct a young man who’d used a slur against LGBTQA people: “That’s not what we believe here,” he said. “We welcome all.” This moment was especially meaningful to the person sitting next to me at the time – my best friend – who would later come out as a gay man. He would often recall that exchange as an affirmation that his identity was not an aberration or abnormality and pivotal in convincing him to come out.

As I think about why my denomination is my home, I recall this moment and the sense that I have always been safe and welcome in church.

As I slowly began to discern my own identity as an asexual, I knew my church would affirm and embrace who I am with the same extravagant love that, for me, reflects the nature of God and the ministry of Christ. Coming out to friends and family provoked more anxiety for me than the thought of talking to my church about it; to be quite honest, it never even crossed my mind that being an asexual would be an issue for either my congregation or my denomination.

That’s a powerful thing to know with certainty: that your church has your back, no matter who or where you are.

I say this knowing that, at the moment, asexuality is new and unfamiliar to many in our culture. Historically, people disinterested in physical intimacy have been thought to be so due to mental illness or childhood trauma (in much the same way that being gay was once thought to be a perversion or indicator of a psychological malaise).

Only recently has asexuality been recognized as a normal, albeit minority, way of being human. For this one percent of the population, physical intimacy holds no sway or influence in their lives. Unlike celibacy, which is a willful decision to eschew sexual desire, an asexual just isn’t “into it.” It’s innate – one could say woven by the divine hand into the strands of our DNA—and not, in that vital distinction, a sign of brokenness or malady.

I’ve wrestled with the distinction between the two. Well-meaning Christians have pointed out that Paul, for example, never married and heaps praise on celibacy in 1 Corinthians 7. There’s no indication, however, that Paul recognizes those who have no compulsion for sexual intimacy; he praises those who have it but make a conscious choice to suppress it.

While six years of seminary gave me a deep respect for scripture, it isn’t where I turn for affirmation or understanding of my asexual identity. As a teenager, I wrestled with the limited theology that springs from being bound to scripture alone; in time I saw the power of theology as a constructive enterprise engaging God through tradition, culture, and revelation to piece together a better picture of myself as an asexual.

I know many in the LGBTQA community have had this struggle, mining the Bible for justification of their self-identity, trying to contextualize the problematic passages that appear to condemn who we are. Some have given up on scripture entirely, others have taken Karl Barth’s notion of “the Bible in one hand and newspaper in the other” to heart, understanding scripture to be a spark of inspiration that grows with and into the evolution of human love and intelligence. For me, the only condition imposed on my expression and identity comes from Jesus’ Great Commandment; if God is edified and the love and dignity of my species is preserved, I am living a worthy life.

Yet there are times when even other progressive Christians are challenged by asexuality. A dear friend confessed to me recently that she sees sex as God’s gift to whole, healthy people – a sacred part of Christian praxis, a vital component of the monogamous romantic covenant. I think this perspective is common, and it’s easy to wonder if a marriage covenant is complete without the act that, in our parlance, “consummates” the bond. Especially when seen as the precursor to parenthood, physical intimacy is often given a high status in the Christian concept of marriage.

I, in fact, was previously married and have a child from that union. For some this appears paradoxical; they ask, “How can you have a child if you don’t like sex?” It’s a common misconception, and I like the response offered by the Asexual Visibility and Education Network (AVEN), who liken it to a spouse who goes to football games because their partner enjoys it.

Some asexuals don’t have children, some do. Hopefully, as our denominational understanding of marriages and family have grown, we’ve moved past that antiquated notion that God’s plan for marriages must include children and sex.

Far too often I experience almost an apologetic sympathy from people when I come out as asexual, because it’s perceived as a deficit or loss. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on,” is the sentiment I frequently encounter.

It doesn’t feel like a “lack” of anything to me. My spiritual practice is rich enough and I find great fulfillment in hiking, writing, meditating, and being part of my church community. Being a parent, working with my youth group, spending time with family – these fill my life with more than enough joy and meaning. I never sit around wondering “what’s missing” from my faith or practice.

Jace Paul is Christian Education Coordinator at the First Congregational Church of Willimantic, CT, and a writer whose works have appeared on The Huffington Post, Medium.com, and in three volumes of poetry. Paul is a graduate of Andover-Newton Theological School and Harvard Divinity School.”

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/12/faith-without-sex-what-does-it-mean-to-be-asexual-and-christian/feed/3Why This Christian Woman Stopped Being So Nicehttp://newsacred.org/2016/12/why-this-christian-woman-stopped-being-so-nice/
http://newsacred.org/2016/12/why-this-christian-woman-stopped-being-so-nice/#commentsMon, 19 Dec 2016 13:30:05 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3280Chanté Griffin - Jesus wasn’t asking me to be nice. He wasn’t calling me to grin and bear it.]]>I didn’t recognize that I even suffered from “Nicey-Nice Woman Syndrome” (NNWS) until I was mistreated while filming a TV project.

NNWS is exactly what it sounds like—a woman obsessed with being “nice” to avoid being perceived as “mean.” Although it’s not a medically recognized condition, I suffered silently for years.

I smiled when I was mad, didn’t negotiate for a higher raise—even though I was one of the top performing employees at my former job—and didn’t insist that a date take me home immediately after he made unwanted advances. After I said, “No,” he refused to drive me back to my dorm, and forced me to sleep on his couch as punishment. Even now I’m embarrassed to admit that I accepted such brute behavior.

After enduring four different labor violations on a TV project, when my agent asked if I wanted to file a claim with the state of California to seek damages, you know what I said?

“Well…I don’t know. It’s just that…”

I could tell from the sound of my agent’s voice that he was frustrated, but that he didn’t want to push me. I was hesitant, even though the company had clearly violated the state’s labor law, and even though filing was well within my legal rights.

I kept thinking, “I don’t want to cause any trouble. It’s not that big of a deal.” Alarmingly, what mattered most to me was how people would perceive me. Demanding justice was a distant afterthought. Even then, I questioned the validity of standing up for myself.

It was then that I decided to ask God for an answer. The response shocked me. As I prayed, I felt that I should file the claim and stand up to the company. It felt right and I felt peace. I told my agent to move forward.

When the check finally arrived, (more than forty days late, but before I filed a claim), my agent called. “Do you still want to file it?” he asked. I hesitated again. Now that I had the check, did I really need to file a claim?

“No,” I fired back immediately. “Actually, when I prayed I felt like God gave me peace to move forward. It’s just that…”

It’s just that…

It’s just that I didn’t want to seem mean.

MEAN (adjective): The four letter word that I had been avoiding my entire life. MEAN: the things that nice girls aren’t, and good women should never become.

I realized that my life had become a twisted version of the Digital Underground song that says, “Kiss me and I’ll kiss you back.” For decades I’d heeded the message that told me that because I was a woman, my life mantra should be, “Hit me (literally or figuratively) and I’ll kiss you back.” My niceness was to be a cure-all for mistreatment, wage discrimination, abuse, and harassment; my only clap back was to smile silently.

But Jesus wasn’t asking me to be nice. He wasn’t calling me to grin and bear it. Thinking about the totality of Scripture, I was reminded that it talks about turning the other cheek (which gets misinterpreted and misapplied often), alongside requesting restitution and justice.

It’s just that…

It’s just that…

It’s just that my fear of what other people would think of me was overriding my desire to be treated with respect and fairness. It’s just that my deeply ingrained fear of not being nice was overshadowing the peace that God had given me. It’s just that my fear of being labeled “mean” was keeping me from allowing the law to protect me from mistreatment by big companies, whether that mistreatment was intentional or not. It’s just that I was in travail birthing the woman I was supposed to be, the one society had feared I’d dare become.

Mid-conversation with my agent, I stopped and prayed. I took a moment to breathe in peace so that it could settle in my heart and mind. In that state of peace, all of the competing voices quieted and I heard only God’s still voice. I told my agent to move forward, and I signed the paperwork.

Today I try to breathe in that peace daily. Resultantly, I feel fewer NNWS symptoms. I am more apt to speak up when I’ve been wronged, and I speak truth to power, even at the risk of being mislabeled and blackballed. I instructed my attorney to go after the full amount in damages, neither because I necessarily need it, nor because I think it’s necessarily warranted. I’m pursuing it because the state of California thinks that it’s warranted, and apparently so does God. I’m going for it because I choose to value my work more, even if I’ve been trained by society to devalue it. If that makes me a mean, “nasty woman,” then Santa will have to give his gifts to someone else this year. I can buy my own.

Los Angeles-based artist Chanté Griffin is fulfilling God’s call to be a voice to her generation. She has traveled as a spokesperson, written for numerous publications, worked in TV and film, and served as a campus minister with a national para-church ministry. She is the Lord’s servant.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/12/why-this-christian-woman-stopped-being-so-nice/feed/2When Will White Progressives Leave Their Bubble?http://newsacred.org/2016/12/when-will-white-progressives-leave-their-bubble/
http://newsacred.org/2016/12/when-will-white-progressives-leave-their-bubble/#commentsThu, 15 Dec 2016 13:40:12 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3271In a brilliant Saturday Night Live skit, “The Bubble,” political progressives who are frightened after the presidential election build a literal bubble around their community so they don’t have to deal with the outside world. The main requirement for living in the Bubble is unquestioned alignment with white progressive viewpoints and cultural norms.

Instead of engaging with anyone who disagrees with their enlightened positions, progressives tend to dismiss them as being unaware, and therefore kick them outside of their bubble, never to consider their opinions again.

I watched this happen during the presidential campaign when many white progressives told people of color, poor white people, Bernie Sanders supporters, and Millennials they just “didn’t get it” if they weren’t excited about voting for Hillary Clinton. A segment of white progressives assumed their alleged foresight would inform the electorate and decide the election.

We all know how that went.

Post election, white progressives have spent more time telling people why they should care about their safety pins than strategizing around protecting the most vulnerable during a Trump presidency. Thousands of Facebook groups emerge as white progressives, mainly white women, talk about their new fears of living in a country they now feel hates them, as if no one else ever felt that way.

We can’t afford for white progressives to stay in their echo chambers. Our lives are literally at stake.

And yes, progressive white folks in the mainline church, this goes for you too.

White progressive folks in the church share superficially edgy Facebook statuses and think getting likes from other white progressives fulfills the requirement of denouncing privilege. They put on safety pins, yet never seem to hear us when black, brown, and queer folks say that’s not going to stop us from getting hate crimed and killed at disproportional rates. They choose to focus on themselves, writing endless think pieces centered in white panic and hypothetical danger instead of sharing first-person thoughts from people who could actually be victims of the surging hate crimes in the U.S. or whose videotaped murders likely wouldn’t result in a guilty verdict.

True allyship requires amplifying the voices of those of us who have been yelling “Black Lives Matter”; asking to use the restroom of our choice; saying “Mni Wiconi” to the Black Snake; demanding water that isn’t poisonous; and saying our loved ones belong here even if they weren’t born here. Oppressed people have been crying out to white progressives for amplification as a means to liberation, and now that we need it more than ever, white progressives—who have the least to lose—are ignoring us and obsessively talking to each other about their grief.

Meanwhile, folks like me have been grieving our oppression since its inception. This grief thing ain’t nothing new; white progressives are just choosing to honor its validity because they’re finally getting a taste of the fear associated with it.

Do the work with your racist relatives. Don’t run from that difficult family dinner or Facebook fight. Engage where others don’t feel safe. It’s not my job, or the job of any person of color, to engage with people about racism politely, or at all, when we aren’t perpetuators of it. White progressives not engaging with racists must realize the fact that they can even choose to engage without real risk is a privilege. Don’t confuse the inconvenience of engaging racists with the real danger people of color face when doing the same engagement.

Do the work within yourself to ask why you’ll write Facebook posts advocating for neighborhoods that you won’t drive through until they’re gentrified. Ask yourself why you’re comfortable crying and marching now that white women are in danger but were nowhere to be found during the original Million Woman March, when the organizers and marchers were black women.

I will hold Trump supporters and the Trump administration accountable in the next four years, but I will do the same for white progressives. Just because you’re not part of the most dangerous problem, doesn’t mean you’re not a problem at all.

If you’re a white progressive and your first thought is now, “Not all white progressives,” try popping your bubble and giving this another read.

Marchaé Grair is many things. A Netflix addict, puppy enthusiast, songbird, Millennial dreamer, and God lover, to name a few. She is the editor of New Sacred and Digital Content Manager for the United Church of Christ. Twitter: @MarchaeGrair

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/12/when-will-white-progressives-leave-their-bubble/feed/3The Sacred Encircled by Violence: Reflections from Standing Rockhttp://newsacred.org/2016/12/the-sacred-encircled-by-violence-reflections-from-standing-rock/
http://newsacred.org/2016/12/the-sacred-encircled-by-violence-reflections-from-standing-rock/#commentsMon, 12 Dec 2016 17:08:25 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3262Brittany Caine-Conley - Change the narrative. Extinguish the violence by protecting the sacred. Be a sacred protector. ]]>Oceti Sakowin is not a protest camp, it is a prayer camp. The camp is constructed on holy ground. Each day begins with a call to prayer. Each action of resistance is based in prayer.

The Indigenous lead movement at Standing Rock is grounded in spirituality and the actual ground. There is a connectedness at Oceti Sakowin that focuses on the kin-dom, in which the earth and the animals and the people all rely upon each other.

Oceti Sakowin felt like God’s promise of a city on a hill, where all things are made new. Yet the camp is not on a hill, it is in a valley. Many hills surround the valley. The violent presence of militarized police dominates the hills.

It’s an overwhelming picture: The sacred encircled by violence. Sacred ground trampled by white supremacy. Sacred water penetrated by greed. Sacred people injured by inhumane grasping of power.

_______

I participated in a non-violent direct action at the Bismarck mall on Black Friday. A group of 40-50 water protectors planned to stand in a circle and pray. As soon as we walked into the mall, we were overwhelmed by the police presence. At least 30 police officers were on high alert, waiting for “disruptive and dangerous” protestors.

We formed our circle. We said nothing. We did not block the walkways. We had gathered for prayer.

“This is private property, we don’t allow religious activity here!” shouted the head of mall security. (How ironic in the midst of Christmas decorations.)

“We just want to pray,” we said.

“Leave now or be arrested!” The police presence intensified.

Then, the officers began ripping people out of the circle. The woman directly next to me was yanked away. “I’m not resisting arrest!” she cried.

Water protectors were thrown to the ground. Our group started to back away, hands in the air. The police pushed us. “Get out of here now!” they screamed.

If we fell to the ground while being pushed, we were arrested. Water protectors were arrested for videoing the officers and not moving away fast enough. I saw four officers tackle an Indigenous man in the corner. He was silent.

We were trying to pray. We were there to pray for the water.

And they met us with violence.

While I was expecting brutality at the hands of the police, I wasn’t expecting to hear such violence coming from the mouths of onlookers.

The Bismarck shoppers cheered the police. They shouted things like, “Arrest them all and beat them!” I was told to get a job and was accused of being a professionally paid protestor. We were scolded for scaring the children.

We were trying to pray. We were there to pray for the water.

What scares me the most is that people were watching what happened. They saw us join hands. They saw us calmly ask to pray. They saw the police brutalize us. And yet, we were condemned and police brutality was cheered.

How can this happen? How can people shopping for Christmas presents denounce peaceful prayer and applaud violent hostility?

How can the police spray humans with antifreeze filled water in frigid temperatures? How can executives willingly poison sacred land and water?

Holiday shoppers were furious that our prayer circle interrupted their Christmas festivities, yet they forgot that powerfully violent state and religious authorities once nailed a peaceful protestor to a tree.

The sacred encircled by violence. It’s an old story that is continuously retold in new, tragic ways.

We must change the narrative, and the only way to change the narrative is to allow our eyes to see the sacred. Indigenous people are sacred. The ground is sacred. The water is sacred. Your neighbor is sacred. You are sacred.

Take that which has been desecrated and breathe your sacred breath into it. Use your sacred body and your sacred voice to protect.

Change the narrative. Extinguish the violence by protecting the sacred. Be a sacred protector.

Brittany lives in Charlottesville, VA with her wife Lindsay and their skeptical dog Eliza. She enjoys dancing, deconstructing destructive dominions of dominance, and alliterations. Above all else, Brittany tries to keep it real.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/12/the-sacred-encircled-by-violence-reflections-from-standing-rock/feed/2Loving Hymns Doesn’t Make You Smarterhttp://newsacred.org/2016/12/loving-hymnals-doesnt-make-you-smarter/
http://newsacred.org/2016/12/loving-hymnals-doesnt-make-you-smarter/#commentsMon, 05 Dec 2016 17:18:59 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3252Jeff Nelson - "Not everyone likes hymns. Period."]]>A cross-fitter, a vegan, and a person who doesn’t like contemporary worship walk into a bar. I know because they told everyone within two minutes.

I’d say that on average, every two or three weeks I see a new post making the rounds on social media decrying nontraditional worship as too emotional, too consumeristic, too theologically vapid. This is in contrast, of course, with the intellectually superior, mind-engaging, definitely-isn’t-just-based-on-my-own-preferences hymns of traditional worship.

It doesn’t matter how far nontraditional styles have come from that first wave in the 70s and 80s, either. Somebody could set a Walter Brueggemann book to guitar chords and people would still complain.

Arguments against nontraditional worship often paint the bullseye around the arrow, though nobody would ever admit it. I have yet to hear a story about how someone unfamiliar with worship walked into a sanctuary and was immediately taken by the theological rigor of the hymns. And if the Millennial generation, as some argue, vastly prefers traditional forms of worship to nontraditional, I’m sure the great resurgence of mainline denominations will happen any day now.

But there’s one primary thing I have yet to hear from the mouths or keyboards of anyone sharing one of these confirmation bias-filled screeds against non-traditional worship.

No, they won’t come around to your way of thinking eventually. No, they won’t one day wake up and finally realize they love songs played on the organ. No, they won’t forsake their preferences even for an hour a week just because someone has dictated a certain musical style is the only valid form of church music. No, they won’t suddenly become impressed by the carefully crafted argument set forth over the six verses of your most treasured hymn.

It’s never going to happen.

Emotion plays a role in every worship style. Consider that music isn’t primarily an intellectual medium; it sets a tone and a mood, whether majestic or somber or joyful. Consider why worship leaders bother with decorating the sanctuary for certain times of the year or why they meticulously choose poetic words for prayers or turns of phrase for sermons. It’s about feeling as much as about thinking. And that’s okay.

It’s time to break through the bubble of article-swapping among those who already agree with you and talk to those who find no connection to hymns. What do they prefer and why? It’s different from one person to the next. Maybe even set up a “listening party” where you bring your favorite stuff and they theirs, and tell each other why you each like what you like.

Be you. Love your hymns. Play and sing them to the best of your ability.

Bring the quality you treasure to the style you’re passionate about. I bet you the people at that “other” service you refuse to attend, where they’re singing that music you’ll never understand, are just as passionate about their music—and God—too.

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He is author of the book Coffeehouse Contemplative: Spiritual Direction for the Everyday. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture athttp://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/12/loving-hymnals-doesnt-make-you-smarter/feed/3Fighting Wordshttp://newsacred.org/2016/11/fighting-words/
http://newsacred.org/2016/11/fighting-words/#commentsMon, 28 Nov 2016 12:14:09 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3246Patrick Duggan - I will focus on the role of progressive faith in bringing the fight to the death-dealing, planet-poisoning, poverty-making, divide-and-conquer politicking, coded speechifying forces of the dark side. ]]>Before I opened my eyes this morning I began my new daily ritual of obsessing over the lost election and the reality of a Trump presidency. It occurred to me that the election was a masterful success for those forces in society that have worked relentlessly for the continued consolidation of wealth and power into the hands of the few. They succeeded in electing a morally bereft figurehead ready to lead the charge of dismantling any government policy that brings relief to the poor and help to the working class. They moved us closer to the elimination of any obligation of the wealthiest to share in the democratic ideal of civil society.

My mind shifted quickly to panic mode, racing to that part of me that knows I am a teaspoon trying to empty the ocean. I paused to wallow awhile in silent whining mode, thinking of all that we did wrong, and all the ways we could have won. I found that space where many of my colleagues are hanging out these days, sitting around opining about ‘what really happened’, cringing at the parade of cartoon villains appointed to cabinet positions, planning a protest to attend, surfing Canadian websites, reposting witty anti-Trump zingers on social media, and praying for a miracle on December 19th.

All the way woke now; the fight in me aroused. On this day in 1925, my late mother, Mertice Jones Duggan, was born. Mertice was a 1952 Howard Law School graduate (yes, an African American woman), who with her fellow students served as volunteer legal staff that did the research, crafted the language and prepared the legal briefs for Thurgood Marshall and the NAACP attorneys that argued and won Brown v. Board of Education in 1954. This at a time when segregation was legal, black people were systemically denied the right to vote, and candidates won elections by proudly proclaiming “I believe in segregation forever”. Compared to the sneeze of post-election 2016, this era for progressivism was a fatal case of pneumonia. And yet my mother and her contemporaries embraced hope. They trod the path of most resistance. They fought impossibly huge battles. They endured losses, violence, and death _both physically and politically. But they fought on. They lost often, but they continued to fight. And when they won, they won big.

I got out of bed and put on my battle gear. I unsheathed my laptop and made ready my provisions for the journey ahead. My words will not be wasted on whining and despair. My sentences will not analyze every moral slight committed by history’s most depraved leader-elect of the free world. I will waste no paragraphs marveling on the racism, reactionary thinking, or the perceived evil intent of a cabinet pick or a Supreme Court candidate. Plenty of others will do that.

I will focus on the role of progressive faith in bringing the fight to the death-dealing, planet –poisoning, poverty-making, divide-and-conquer politicking, coded speechifying forces of the dark side. I will share the good news of the peace and justice-making capacity of faith-controlled assets deployed to advance mission. I will shout out every effort to expand the economy of God, reduce the growth of global poverty and foil the accelerated consolidation of wealth.

The Christian Right’s abandonment of the moral high ground has created an opportunity for an authentic Christian witness; one that embraces Jesus’ personal mission statement in Luke 4:18-19. This renewed public Christianity will work in joyful coalition with Muslims, Jews, people from all religions, and people of good will that follow no religions but share our desire to create a just world for all.

The giant is no longer asleep.

It’s on.

The Reverend Doctor Patrick Garnet Duggan is a native New Yorker, the son of a Jamaican cabinet maker and a New York attorney. He serves as Senior Pastor of the Congregational Church of South Hempstead UCC and Executive Director of the UCC Church Building and Loan Fund. He loves writing, preaching, teaching, helping church leaders with difficult building projects, and talking about how the church can use its resources to change the world. Twitter: @revduggan1

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/11/fighting-words/feed/6A Story Every Woman Knowshttp://newsacred.org/2016/11/a-story-every-woman-knows/
http://newsacred.org/2016/11/a-story-every-woman-knows/#commentsTue, 01 Nov 2016 12:30:44 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3240Susan Foster - Many women live in fear every day, but violence cannot have the last word. ]]>A woman in her 80s stopped by my office this week to reflect on a time she had been sexually harassed by a college classmate. Although the event occurred decades earlier, she still hesitates to attend school reunions, fearful to encounter him again.

“Just seeing him makes me feel sick to my stomach,” she said, “Do you know what I mean?”

I do indeed. I would be willing to bet every woman understands. If we gathered a group of women together, each one would have at least one story about a time when she was harassed, molested, assaulted or spoken to in a way that made her feel disrespected, dirty or ashamed.

Or just plain angry.

It’s been all over the news lately. The politics of the situation are not as important as the need to have this conversation, to get the problem out in the open.

We can start by sharing our stories. The “gross encounters” I have experienced are probably no worse than anyone else’s. I could tell you about the time when:

Two boys were playing a rough game of tag with me at a school picnic when I was eleven. Suddenly, one of them grabbed me and pushed me to the ground, pinning my arms down while the other boy reached under my shirt. I can still hear their breathless laughter. That ended when a male teacher yelled, “What are you kids doing?” He then went on to chide me about teasing boys.

It was on my junior year abroad from college, backpacking with a male companion by train through Europe.

On a night train to Rome as I ventured down the corridor to the bathroom, a stranger lunged out of a compartment, pushed me against the wall, and tried to kiss me as his hands groped my body. It was only when I brought my knee up suddenly that he stopped and pushed me away.

I received an envelope in the mail filled with images of violent pornography after challenging my male college dorm mates about the volume of their music. “Women should be quiet” was the only repeatable phrase scrawled across the vile photos. I could never prove that it was them, but I always felt afraid when I walked by their room.

Many women have experienced much worse.

Many women live in fear every day, but violence cannot have the last word.

I want the woman in my office to look in the mirror and recognize a beloved child of God. I want her to know that the cruel disrespect she and I and so many women experienced cannot diminish our God-given identity. As cherished, strong, capable women, beloved of God, we can face this sometimes bruising world with courage.

Sue Foster loves being a minister at the East Woodstock Congregational (UCC) Church in CT. She juggles her roles as pastor, wife, mother, and writer. She blogs at www.fosteringyourfaith.wordpress.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/11/a-story-every-woman-knows/feed/1Why the Children at My Church Don’t Have to Hug Mehttp://newsacred.org/2016/10/why-the-children-at-my-church-dont-have-to-hug-me/
http://newsacred.org/2016/10/why-the-children-at-my-church-dont-have-to-hug-me/#commentsTue, 25 Oct 2016 12:02:09 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3229Allen Marshall O'Brien - Six months ago, I made one small change in the way I interact with the kids in our church.]]>Yesterday I fumbled my way through a children’s moment (we invite the kids up every Sunday to sit on the stage and talk with them in front of the congregation) about bodily autonomy. I told them about the time I broke my leg and asked them if they had ever hurt something; one kid had sprained an ankle, another had jammed their thumb. I asked “when this happened, whom did it hurt?” It hurt them, of course. It didn’t hurt other people, because it was their body. I explained that our bodies are gifts from God, that they belong to us, and it is OK to tell people when something makes us uncomfortable.

Six months ago, I made one small change in the way I interact with the kids in our church, hoping to encourage their sense of body ownership. Before giving them a high five or hug, I started asking for permission. “Can I have a high five?” was surprising the first few times, but they got used to it. Now it’s part of what we do and it isn’t weird.

“You know how I ask for permission when I give you a high five?” they all smiled and nodded. We exchanged high fives. I told them I do this, because it’s never a bad idea to ask permission before doing something to someone else’s body, whether that’s wrestling, hugging, or just high fiving, because asking is easy and sometimes you don’t know how the other person feels. For instance, I explained, some of the older people in our congregation have pain in their hands and it hurts to give high fives, while others love it!

Then I invited them to try it out (if they wanted to) by walking around the church and asking a few people if they’d like a high five. Of course it was cute and they enjoyed it. More importantly, our congregation corporately recognized and reaffirmed, if only in a small way, that our bodies are our own and they are inviolable.

I have heard arguments during the last few weeks explaining away jokes about sexual assault, justifying actual assault, and unabashedly victim shaming on national television. Our kids are already growing up in a world where assault is so normal that one in three women are violently or sexually assaulted; the last thing they need is brazen attempts to dismiss this conversation in the name of political expediency.

The second to last thing they need is our silence. So say something, do something, even if it isn’t perfect, even if you have to figure it out as you go along.

Allen Marshall O’Brien is the pastor of a UCC church in Northern California and co-host of the Irenicast. He believes in the importance of education, peace, and ecology, spends time with his border collie Sonata, and appreciates a good cup of coffee.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/10/why-the-children-at-my-church-dont-have-to-hug-me/feed/2I Don’t Know, and I’m Learning to be Okay with Thathttp://newsacred.org/2016/10/i-dont-know-and-im-learning-to-be-okay-with-that/
http://newsacred.org/2016/10/i-dont-know-and-im-learning-to-be-okay-with-that/#commentsWed, 19 Oct 2016 16:00:37 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3221Sarah Torna Roberts - I have to remember that a frantic need for certainty can strangle the faith that has brought me so much peace.]]>When you’re a recovering legalist, there is a phrase that hurts. It hurts to say, to think, to admit. But once it’s said, once you get used to saying it- the freedom it brings is oxygen for your lungs and peace for your soul.

“I don’t know.”

I grew up in close proximity to people who knew. They weren’t heavy-handed or abusive in their certainty, but they had their teachers and their books, their preachers and their pamphlets. And they pointed to them regularly. It all made so much sense.

Until, of course, it didn’t anymore.

It’s not an uncommon story, the little girl who grows up so sure of all she knows and believes until one day things don’t fit anymore. The answers don’t satisfy. The assurances don’t calm the heart and mind. Not anymore.

I can’t tell you how many thousands of hours I’ve spent hunched over books, highlighter in hand, looking for the answers. I want facts, indisputable evidence, logic. But more often than not, the answers just aren’t there. I always thought the answers were there and it was just a great, divine scavenger hunt.

But growing up, having children, surviving doubt, and God knows, this election, have all forced me to look at my stack of half-solved clues and say, I just don’t know.

For awhile, not knowing and not believing were painfully linked. And that’s the problem, I think. It took a few years of sorting through the anger of not knowing before I could see how close I’d come to losing something I’m not sure I had ever fully experienced, though I desperately wanted to- faith.

I’ve been dabbling in faith for a few years now. And paradoxically, my faith has given me the gift of certainty. The catch is that it only seems to allow me to be certain about a very few things, and none of them are the things I was certain of once upon a time.

My faith makes me certain that God is crazy in love with us humans.My faith makes me certain that love is what it all comes down to.My faith makes me certain that I’ll never regret fighting for the underdog.My faith makes me certain that science isn’t to be feared.My faith makes me certain that our earth is God’s example of creativity to us.My faith makes me certain that there is no head but Christ.My faith makes me certain that I don’t need to understand every dogmatic point.My faith makes me certain that waking up each day is a gift.My faith makes me certain that falling asleep each night is a mercy.

It’s getting easier all the time to say I don’t know, but the truth is, there is still a twinge deep inside that pricks when I utter the words. I still want to know the mind of God, the exact meaning of this Greek phrase or that, the correct interpretation of that passage in Romans. I like to know, and more than that, I like for other people to think I know.

So I remind myself that scholars far smarter than me have never agreed on those points, and maybe I just need to let it go.

It’s fine to be curious, it’s great to be curious. But I have to be oh so careful with my curiosity. I have to enjoy the pursuit and not rely too much on the endgame. I have to remember that a frantic need for certainty can strangle the faith that has brought me so much peace.

You can present me with a question, and I’ll read the various arguments, and I’ll probably even form an opinion. But when you shoot me a rebuttal, a 3-point argument, I might just take a deep breath, give a small smile, and say, “I don’t know.”

Sarah Torna Roberts is an essayist and journalist based in California where she lives with husband and four sons. She writes about parenting, women’s issues, faith, human behavior or culture. Her work has been featured in The Washington Post, The Establishment, Scary Mommy, and other wonderful publications.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/10/i-dont-know-and-im-learning-to-be-okay-with-that/feed/3My Sexual Assault is More Than Locker Room Banterhttp://newsacred.org/2016/10/my-sexual-assault-is-more-than-locker-room-banter/
http://newsacred.org/2016/10/my-sexual-assault-is-more-than-locker-room-banter/#commentsFri, 14 Oct 2016 16:58:21 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3208Rev. Elsa Anders Cook - One in five women and one in sixteen men were sexually assaulted while in college and I’m one of them.]]>Trigger Warning: The content of this post may be triggering for people who have experienced sexual assault.

I was in college. I was drunker than I should have been—much drunker—and I was flirting with a boy. We kissed sloppily. One thing led to another and I left the bar with him. We went back to his place where he pinned me down to the bed and I said, “No.”

He called me a tease. He said other things too. Words that I fear might be true about me but somehow I got out of there. I wasn’t even fully dressed when the heavy door to his apartment slammed shut behind me.

It’s a story I wouldn’t tell in church and this week I find that particularly upsetting. It was only a few days ago that a video was leaked in which a political candidate brags that he can do anything to women and get away with it.

Since then, I have heard women in my social network—and a few men—quietly reveal their own stories of assault and rape. Some of them were in college too. Others were not.

They have confessed that this news has triggered them and they’ve asked for prayers from their sisters and brothers in Christ. I’ve read every word. I’ve whispered prayers for each one of them but not without wondering why I haven’t felt just as triggered.

I’ve convinced myself that it wasn’t that bad. I’ve told myself that it could have been worse and it is a whole lot worse for way too many people. I don’t even want to list the statistics. Others have not escaped. Others have been grabbed and touched in ways that have betrayed their worth and violated their wonder.

I have a long list of reasons as to why it wasn’t so bad for me including the fact that I was drunk and that I’d left my friends. I was dumb. I should have just gone home. I knew I didn’t feel quite safe and I kissed him anyway. I could go on but to put it bluntly: I blame myself.

It is easier to attach my name and picture to this blog post than it is to look my sister or brother in Christ in the eye and confess this truth. But, there it is: I blame myself for my own sexual assault.

There is a mighty chorus of Christian voices reminding us all that this news cannot be dismissed as “locker room banter” because words matter. This isn’t a new idea.

It isn’t all that revelatory except for the fact that it’s been 15 years since that drunken night and I still believe what that boy said about me. I’m still trying to wash away the shame and find the courage to believe that I am “fearfully and wonderfully made” by God.

The Rev. Elsa Anders Cook is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ who has served churches in New York City, Maine, Washington and Pennsylvania. Follow along in her adventures in ministry and writing at http://cookingwithelsa.org. You can also find her on Facebook at /elsaanderscook.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/10/my-sexual-assault-is-more-than-locker-room-banter/feed/1A Kingdom of Nonbelievers? Maybe.http://newsacred.org/2016/10/a-kingdom-of-nonbelievers-maybe/
http://newsacred.org/2016/10/a-kingdom-of-nonbelievers-maybe/#commentsWed, 12 Oct 2016 17:00:00 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3199John Beren Propper - So, what’s the deal? Is Christian atheism the new frontier? Or are we lost without a clue?]]>If you haven’t heard of Gretta Vosper, she’s currently center point of the biggest war in Christianity.

Rev. Vosper, an ordained minister within the United Church of Canada, is currently embattled with her own denomination over her scandalous (to some) admission of atheism. That’s right: the good reverend is also a good skeptic.

What may surprise some is Rev. Vosper, despite recently being defrocked (an appeal process is expected), has the support of not only many congregants, but also other voices both inside and outside the church. In other words, at least in the case of this minister, many don’t seem to mind too much about the particulars of Rev. Vosper’s belief. To them, her service to others speaks volumes. To them, she’s as Christian as can be.

But is she? Can a minister in the Christian church truly serve others without holding fast to certain essential, fundamental Christian beliefs? What’s more, what beliefs are “essential, fundamental” in the first place?

The difficulty of Christianity is that beliefs have traditionally been a sort of litmus test—not only for ministers, but also for laypeople as well. The notion of Christian creeds as a way of codifying and expressing those beliefs has been essential to the church since its early days. Within the scriptures, Christ, and later his followers, attempts to correct the wrong beliefs of others. Christ’s method of teaching, “You have heard it said…but I say…”—is grounded in this process of replacing false ideas with true ones. And after his crucifixion, the Gospel writers have Christ appear to Thomas to persuade the disciple of the veracity of Christ’s rise from the dead.

All this to say, in the Christian faith, beliefs matter. But on the other hand…

Nobody has to be a historian to know Christian beliefs have changed dramatically since the days of our first creeds. Let’s not kid ourselves: churches are already filled by people with doubts, with skepticism, and even with outright unbelief, whether we openly admit it or not. And yes, many of these skeptics are our leaders, our teachers and our preachers. Yet those leaders “of little or no faith” often remain (to use a common expression) “closeted.” They parrot the creeds, they recite the words, but they quietly interpret them differently than those with more traditional ideas of God and faith.

So, what’s the deal? Is Christian atheism the new frontier? Or are we lost without a clue?

The answer isn’t an easy one, but it is one with precedent. Look for instance at Christianity’s mother faith, Judaism, which often makes space for participants (and leaders) with various beliefs, and even non-belief.

Sure, there are lines that can’t be crossed. For instance, Jews who believe in Jesus carry an entirely different name: Christians. But by and large, the “crisis” over the beliefs of modern practitioners…well, isn’t one. Most weeks, I attend a synagogue with my Jewish wife. Each service, I might find an atheist sitting to the right of me, and a “traditionalist” on the other. Next week, they might switch places. The prayers, the traditions, and the pathways stay the same. Individual belief is left to personal conscience. All are welcome.

Can the Church reflect a similar diversity? Personally, I think so. It seems strange to me that Christianity evolved from Judaism only to somehow become less welcoming. If the Jewish faith of Christ was (and is) inclusive of a wide range of beliefs, then surely our modern churches can be similarly inclusive.

So long as we each find value in our common touchpoints—the Bible, symbols of Christ and his redemption, our shared calendar, and a more or less similar structure of worship—can we not all be free to understand these touchpoints as best we can?

The scriptures aren’t histories, and none of us is privy to a time machine. Why draw battle lines over what we don’t know?

Our scriptures teach us that our beliefs matter, but they also teach us that “right beliefs” aren’t the key to building the kingdom of Heaven. They teach us that the very voice of Heaven itself—the “speech of angels”—is meaningless without selfless love.

What more ringing endorsement for radical inclusion can we expect?

Jon Beren Propper is an educator and author serving a United Church of Christ congregation in West Michigan.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/10/a-kingdom-of-nonbelievers-maybe/feed/7You’re Allowed to Laugh in Churchhttp://newsacred.org/2016/10/youre-allowed-to-laugh-in-church/
http://newsacred.org/2016/10/youre-allowed-to-laugh-in-church/#commentsWed, 05 Oct 2016 12:00:10 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3195Jeff Nelson - I'm pretty sure Jesus laughed. We in the church are allowed to laugh, too.I'm pretty sure Jesus laughed. We in the church are allowed to laugh, too.]]>My church has enjoyed a little bit of fame recently.

It started when I had an idea for our sign that would acknowledge the season and make light of how a lot of grocery stores, restaurants, and coffeehouses serve “pumpkin spice” flavored drinks and confections this time of year.

There it is to the left: “Now Serving Pumpkin Spice Communion.” It’s a churchy spin on the autumn flavor craze, baked in with a slight commentary on how excessive and absurd said craze can get.

And yes, it’s a joke.

We didn’t actually have pumpkin bread for communion last Sunday. We didn’t substitute grape juice with apple cider. So if you’ve driven past this sign or seen it on social media, you don’t need to report us to the Sacrament Police.

I just decided to have a little fun and hope someone noticed and laughed.

It turns out that a lot of people have been noticing and laughing. As of this writing, it’s been seen by nearly 45,000 people and shared over 300 times on Facebook. Most people seem to get it, but I’ve seen a few comments and messages suggesting that not everyone has.

“Please tell me this is a joke.”

“That is going too far.”

“This isn’t serious, is it?”

I don’t know the minds of the people who made these comments. But if I had to guess, the thought of a church serving anything but the standard elements has struck some as irreverent at best and blasphemous at worst.

And perhaps to even joke about it is a bridge too far. One email the church received expressed concern someone would show up on Sunday actually expecting us to serve them a pumpkin-flavored Body of Christ.

There’s a reason the term “frozen chosen” is sometimes applied to people of faith—many churches have a reputation for being Serious People who do Serious Liturgy Things in a Very Serious Way. A joke during the sermon is met with silence; a silly unexpected comment from a child is met with disdain.

Some of this reaction is founded in a desire for reverence, for keeping a sense of the holy. But I think humor is holy, too.

In the Gospels, Jesus is accused of enjoying himself a little too much with the “wrong kind of people.” I wonder if he at least smiled while telling parables and seeing the look on people’s faces when a Samaritan turns out to be the hero. His act of riding into Jerusalem on a donkey was a satire on the usual triumphant entries of royal and military figures. Imagine some of the jokes the likes of fishermen, tax collectors, and prostitutes may have told around the table or campfire in his presence.

I’m pretty sure Jesus laughed. We in the church are allowed to laugh, too.

Humor helps remind us to not take ourselves so seriously. It shows us the side of God’s creation that is playful and creative. It helps us differentiate between what needs our real attention and what can be gripped less tightly. If people of faith are unable to laugh, unable to make that differentiation, unable to be playful, then we’re neglecting a divine gift that helps us see creation, the church’s mission, and ourselves more holistically.

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He is author of the book Coffeehouse Contemplative: Spiritual Direction for the Everyday. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture athttp://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/10/youre-allowed-to-laugh-in-church/feed/8#NativeLivesMatter: Protecting the Water at Standing Rockhttp://newsacred.org/2016/09/nativelivesmatter-protecting-the-water-at-standing-rock/
http://newsacred.org/2016/09/nativelivesmatter-protecting-the-water-at-standing-rock/#commentsThu, 15 Sep 2016 18:26:20 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3182Rebecca Voelkel (Guest Writer) - The impact on the Missouri River when a spill happens from the planned Dakota Access Pipeline will be catastrophic.]]>“We are alive…. We are alive…. We are alive.”

This was the first thing we heard when we arrived at the Water Protectors camp established by the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and inhabited by representatives of over 100 Tribal nations. It was sung, in Lakota, by all who knew it at the invitation of a Lakota elder.

I had come as a UCC clergyperson with three other non-Native people to be “witnesses and interpreters” at the behest of Rev. Marlene Helgemo, pastor of All Nations Indian Church and Director of the Council for American Indian Ministryin the United Church of Christ to help protect the water.

The impact on the Missouri River when a spill happens from the planned Dakota Access Pipeline will be catastrophic.

We were asked to be here on these particular days because September 9th was the day a federal judge was to rule on whether the DAPL would undergo an environmental impact review.

But as the day unfolded, I experienced the other, equally important reason I had come—to stand in solidarity with Native leaders.

The song “We are Alive” brought me to tears. In the face of over 500 years of attempted genocide, broken treaties, concentration camps, forced marches, boarding schools, cultural genocide—most of it perpetrated by my fellow Christians—this was a gathering that said #NativeLivesMatter. It was a camp of shared food, shared clothing, shared school supplies and it was filled with music and ceremony and prayer.

At one point, we were all invited down to the riverside (a movement that wasn’t lost on me as I contemplated John the Baptist and the writers of “Ain’t Gonna Study War No More”) to welcome representatives of several Pacific Coast nations who had paddled across Lake Oahe and were coming up the Missouri to bless the water and stand in solidarity with Standing Rock. As they paddled past us, people shouted out blessings and one child in particular greeted each new canoe with “Water is sacred.”

As the evening closed, we were invited to a pipe ceremony. The invitation alone was an act of deep honoring. I know that as a white, non-Native person, this is sacred space that is not mine. And I couldn’t help praying as the pipe came to rest in my left hand, that I would do justice to the honor bestowed upon me as a witness and interpreter of this sacred, revolutionary space.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/09/nativelivesmatter-protecting-the-water-at-standing-rock/feed/1The Fire at Standing Rock: Three Lessons for Continued Strugglehttp://newsacred.org/2016/09/the-fire-at-standing-rock-three-lessons-for-continued-struggle/
http://newsacred.org/2016/09/the-fire-at-standing-rock-three-lessons-for-continued-struggle/#commentsMon, 12 Sep 2016 19:00:51 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3172Rev. Brooks Berndt - I hope the fire emanating from this movement will continue to inspire and will continue to spread.]]>After spending part of this past week with faith leaders invited to a camp at Standing Rock, I came away with three important lessons in the continued struggle to defeat the Dakota Access Pipeline.

Lesson #1: Celebrate in a Way That Adds to the Fire, Not Dampens It

When the Department of Justice, the Department of the Army, and the Department of the Interior issued a joint statement on Friday to call for a voluntary pause in pipeline construction near Lake Oahu, I heard a variety of responses in the camp ranging from caution and uncertainty to joy and celebration.

While there is no doubt that the struggle is not over and final victory is far from won, a slightly more nuanced view of celebration is possible. Think of how far the movement has come. It has changed the game. The political pressure and national attention it has generated are remarkable achievements, but they are indeed achievements that are part of an ongoing process. In this situation, celebration is not necessarily a bad thing, so long as it adds fuel to the fire rather than dampening it.

Lesson #2: Appreciate That the Fire Is Sacred

A continual and central message that stresses the sacredness of water.

Leadership that repeatedly and publicly calls for prayer.

Daily spiritual ceremonies and practices that form the lifeblood of the camps driving the movement.

There is no doubt that the foundation of this struggle is one that can be aptly described as spiritual or religious. After spending so much of the last eight years trying to serve as a bridge between secular environmental organizations and faith communities, this movement is beyond refreshing. It demonstrates what many of us have known on a much smaller scale: collective efforts for change flourish when they can root themselves in the sustaining and renewing power of the sacred.

Lesson #3: Let Each Spark Come Forth

Let’s be honest. A fair amount of activism in our country suffers from a malady that can be variously described as egotism, factionalism, leftwing pretentiousness, more-radical-than-thou-ism, etc.

I would not make a gross, romantic generalization and say that these bogeymen of progress are utterly non-existent in the camps. Nevertheless, I experienced a camp that exudes a culture of inclusivity, communal solidarity, mutual respect, and playful humor. In the Christian faith, we describe such spaces as glimpses of what Martin Luther King Jr. called “the beloved community,” or the kingdom of God.

As I listened to speakers at the evening campfire gathering one night, I got a sense of how this was possible. The camp creates a space in which the spark in each of us can come forth and be given oxygen to grow.

I hope the fire emanating from this movement will continue to inspire and will continue to spread.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/09/the-fire-at-standing-rock-three-lessons-for-continued-struggle/feed/1God is Beyond Limits, Including Gender Binarieshttp://newsacred.org/2016/08/god-is-beyond-limits-including-gender-binaries/
http://newsacred.org/2016/08/god-is-beyond-limits-including-gender-binaries/#commentsWed, 24 Aug 2016 12:30:14 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3154Rev. Chris Davies - God is beyond the gender binary—in God, Godself, and in working through people beyond the binary.]]>When progressive Christians talk about God, we talk about a God so big that neither our bodies or our words can hold the divine. But we try anyway. And if we believe that we all are created in the image of God, then those who are on the spectrum of gender are, too, reflecting the image and work of God, both in the Bible, and beyond.

First, the divine Godself is portrayed as beyond gender:

– God is beyond a gender binary in the creation narrative. God speaks about creating humanity in God’s own image. But God doesn’t speak about creating a binary— God speaks about creating “them.” Male and female and beyond, in the (plural) image of God. (Genesis 1:27)

– God is beyond a gender binary when Jesus is seen as the coming of the Word in John 1. The coming of the Word is also the fulfillment of Wisdom coming. Wisdom, who is referred to as Sophia and names herself as there in creation, too, in Proverbs 8. (See Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, by Marcus Borg for more information.)

– God is beyond a gender binary in Isaiah. The book contains a section that scholars call “second Isaiah,” usually between 40-55, where all the images of God are feminine–oriented— like Isaiah 49:15, where God is compared to a nursing mother.

Second, the Divine is working through people who are beyond the gender binary:

– God works beyond gender when Joseph receives a coat of many colors. Scholar Peterson Tuscano points out the Hebrew verb in this passage is only used one other place, and it refers to a dress given to a princess. The whole story changes if we think about Joseph as a cross-dressing character.

– God works beyond gender when we think of theimmense role of Eunuchs in the Bible. Eunuchs were often perceived as messengers, wealthy single men serving courts, or beyond. They may or may not have been physically altered, but they certainly play a massive role in the Bible. Most notably, Jesus declares the kingdom of God is open to them in Matthew 19:12. In Acts 8:26-40, the first convert to Christianity was the Ethiopian Eunuch. (For more information, and a full roll call of biblical Eunuchs, see Outing the Bible by Nancy Wilson.)

And as people become ever more themselves, we know that there are those among us who are embodying gender beyond male and/or female. Such as Native folk who are two-spirit. Folk who are on a spectrum of transgender. Folk who are occupying a space of either/or; both/and.

We must lift up the wisdom of people living in the margins in their experience with the sacred. We must listen when trans & genderqueer folk name their own journey.

God is beyond the gender binary—in God, Godself, and in working through people beyond the binary.

Rev. Chris Davies is the curator of Queer Clergy Trading Cards and serves the United Church of Christ as the Coordinator for Congregational Assessment, Support and Advancement. Her academic work is in queer proclamation.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/08/god-is-beyond-limits-including-gender-binaries/feed/13Inspiration Porn: What It Is and Why It Hurtshttp://newsacred.org/2016/08/inspiration-porn-what-it-is-and-why-it-hurts/
http://newsacred.org/2016/08/inspiration-porn-what-it-is-and-why-it-hurts/#commentsMon, 22 Aug 2016 12:47:55 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3146Bekah Anderson - Inspiration porn refers to media in which "people with disabilities are called inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability."]]>Have you ever heard that sermon about the disabled kid? You know the one.

Small child becomes disabled, parents are heartbroken, predictions are grim…

Then skip forward about twelve years and this same kid is smart, sweet, funny, an A student, an award-winning artist, etc. The message is about the love of God, the power of prayer, or maybe our Christian responsibility to serve those less fortunate. And you sat back in your pew, a tear in your eye, thinking how amazing that poor little kid you have never met must be.

That’s inspiration porn.

Inspiration porn, a term coined by disability activist Stelle Young, refers to media in which “people with disabilities are called inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability.” This includes stories, writings, and images that portray disabled people doing things that would be ordinary to non-disabled folks, but calling them “inspirational” because the person doing them is disabled.

As a young, white, disabled woman, I have experienced this all my life. Friends, teachers, and even strangers tell me how “amazed” they are by my success in school, my ability to navigate my physical environment, and many other things that I do every day.

Church is also fertile soil for more generalized inspiration porn. Pastors often preach and write about people with disabilities with a heavy bent towards inspiration porn, and I often have to listen to it on Sunday mornings.

I can never get anyone to understand why this is a problem. Inspiration porn is always framed as highlighting the success of disabled people without any examination of the biases inherent in it.

Here is a brief rundown of some of the problems lurking behind these narratives:

1. Inspiration porn sets an able-bodied, neurotypical standard of “normal” as exceptional for disabled people, and therefore assumes that we are expected to do “worse” at any given task than our non-disabled peers.

What I hear when most people call me inspirational is: “I didn’t think a blind person could do that.” Which is all very well, except that there’s usually no good reason why a blind person couldn’t have done that, and I didn’t volunteer to be their heartwarming story anyway.

2. Inspiration porn hurts the people who aren’t on the posters and in the stories. Some disabled people can’t or don’t want to live their lives the “normal” way. Many of them are highly accomplished, but you will never hear about it because their ways of moving, talking, or interacting make abled people uncomfortable, and their creative, non-normal solutions to daily struggles are just too “weird.”

When we focus on people like me who are “disability pretty” and can fit into the white, American, middle-class normal, we lose a lot of amazing stories.

3. Worse, inspiration porn allows us to forget the people who could be doing amazing things but aren’t because they’re trapped by institutions, poverty, over-protective families, lack of assistive services, lack of useful education, and many other factors that are part of an insidious force called ableism.

Inspiration porn tells us that people like me succeed because we are smart, courageous, and never give up on our dreams. This may be true, but we also usually have other support systems, or other societal advantages, like whiteness or money.

When we leave these details out, we are able to assume that the disabled people who don’t succeed in this way are not smart enough, brave enough, and give up too easily, and are therefore not worthy of our attention.

This is a lie.

I will not be an inspiration for you so that you can forget about the people in understaffed group homes, the mentally ill black men behind bars, the children channeled to Special Ed classes and away from APs. I will not listen when you try to tell me I am better than them. I am not. What I am is privileged.

My challenge to the preachers, writers, and storytellers among us, including myself, is this: Stop telling stories for a moment, and listen. Listen, even though the voice speaking to you is slurred. Listen, even though the voice comes through an ASL interpreter or a computer. Listen, even when the voice has been effectively silenced, and honor that loss. Our voices and our silences are sacred. Pray with me that they may all one day find the sacred space they deserve.

Bekah Anderson is a writer, student, and disability activist currently studying at Hampshire College in Amherst, MA. She is passionate about disability justice, queering the church, and fantasy novels. She blogs irregularly at bekahmaren.blogspot.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/08/inspiration-porn-what-it-is-and-why-it-hurts/feed/24Love “That Type of Christian” Anywayhttp://newsacred.org/2016/08/love-that-type-of-christian-anyway/
http://newsacred.org/2016/08/love-that-type-of-christian-anyway/#commentsFri, 12 Aug 2016 12:00:00 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3139Jon Beren Propper - Surely, there's room for me, for you, for all of us, not in spite of our identities and beliefs, but because of them.]]>Once, I was in need of a Bible.

After a couple failed attempts at local booksellers, I did what many other self-identifying Christians would have done first: I went to a Christian bookstore.

I don’t frequent these places. There’s being a Christian, and then there’s being a Christian.

But anyway, I’m in the store for a Bible, and I’m feeling the cultural gap big time. Duck Dynasty devotionals sit proudly out front. There’s Casting Crowns or something on the store radio. Posters push the latest devotional from some pastor who probably thinks I’m a little too queer and a lot too interested in 1970s Italian cannibal movies to be a member of his church.

Ultimate question: did I get the Bible I wanted? Yes, but I also got a big dose of something else.

It wasn’t just the tchotchkes, the music, or the implied politics that discomfited me. It was the uniformity, the sameness, the lack of substantial discourse seen when browsing the shelves. It all seemed to point to one way of inhabiting Christianity, a way that leaves room for so few of us.

If I belong in a church at all, and I think I do, I belong as a queer man married to a Jewish woman. I belong as a man who struggles with bisexual erasure. I belong as a man who listens to Cannibal Corpse and reads Jacqueline Susann. As a man who finds some bars just as welcoming as church pews. As a man whose favorite non-canonical story about Jesus involves his circumcision and the rings of Saturn.

Surely, there’s room for me, for you, for all of us, not in spite of our identities and beliefs, but because of them.

Once, a friend shared a beautiful story about two Bible scholars who met daily at a local park to discuss the meaning of a difficult scripture. Days turned into months, months to years, and each meeting, the scholars discussed the same passage. One day, both scholars were shocked when a stranger approached them during their regularly heated discussion.

“I have been sent by God to tell you the true meaning of the scripture about which you argue.” The messenger proceeded to explain the correct interpretation.

Rather than being relieved, the two scholars were visibly angry.

“Why would you go and do a thing like that?!” they cried.

“But, God watched you argue for years, so–” the messenger began.

“Watched us argue? Why that was nothing!” one scholar cried.

The other scholar turned to the messenger with a patient expression.

“Son, the scripture was merely a pretense for meeting. While we met to discuss our disagreements, we also grew as friends. We supported one another through sickness and sadness. We celebrated our joys. We loved one another. How presumptuous of you to try and take that away from us!”

Suitably chastened, God’s messenger vanished.

While some might balk at this story, it carries an essential truth: in our differences as a people of faith, we can actually find avenues to friendship with one another. Moreover, those differences are essential to our health as a community. The pale, queer metal head. The person of color who is done playing nice about police violence. And yes, even the person who thinks Christian bookstores are just lovely, thank you. The hidden truth in most churches is that, under the surface, an enormous amount of these differences already exist in belief and practice, but they only find their expression outside the church community. This is a tragic loss.

When our sanctuaries become places for all to find shelter, compassion, friendship, and community, rather than ‘re-education centers’ in service of some singular ideology, then we will have realized the dream of the Prophet Isaiah, who, as if speaking with the voice of God, wrote, “My house shall be a house of prayer for all people.”

Jon Propper is an author and educator living in West Michigan. A former student rabbi in the Reconstructionist tradition, Jon is now a Congregationalist Christian, as he promotes interfaith sensitivity and Christian literacy.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/08/love-that-type-of-christian-anyway/feed/4Either Black Lives Matter or the Police: It’s Not That Simplehttp://newsacred.org/2016/07/blacklivesmatterorthepolice/
http://newsacred.org/2016/07/blacklivesmatterorthepolice/#commentsFri, 08 Jul 2016 21:19:10 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3128Chase Peeples - My heart can be broken for black men killed by police AND for police officers killed.
]]>I stayed up late watching news of the killings of five Dallas police officers, just as I had stayed up late earlier in the week watching the coverage of the killings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castille. As soon as news broke of the killings of police officers, I knew what would happen. Sure enough, when I awoke, cable news was awash with politicians and pundits declaring the killings were the fault of the Black Lives Matter movement. One U.S. Congressman declared that saying “Black Lives Matter” is a betrayal of MLK, Jr.’s dream of a colorblind society and anything other than “All Lives Matter” was un-American.

Sigh.

Pundits, members of the media—maybe all of us—seem to need to distill the complicated issues of race, violence and law enforcement down to a single simple narrative. Either you are on the side of black people or you are on the side of police. To grieve the senseless death of police officers means one must reject the claims of Black Lives Matter activists. To react with horror at the numerous killings of black men by police officers means one must view all police officers as enemies.

Reasonable people may think, “Of course we can care about black lives and police lives,” but we are not living in reasonable times. In our current culture of daily violence beamed to our smart phones, there is little time for reflection or resisting the allure of simplistic political and media narratives. The social pressure to demonize one side or the other is immense. God calls us to resist the temptation to choose either one point of view or the other.

My heart can be broken for black men killed by police AND for police officers killed. I do not have to choose either one or the other.

I can declare “Black Lives Matter” AND declare “Police Lives Matter” without one cancelling the other out. I do not have to choose either one or the other.

I can validate the experience of black people mistreated by police AND validate the experience of police who feel unappreciated and unfairly judged. I do not have to choose either one or the other.

I can protest systemic racism in law enforcement AND express gratitude for the many members of law enforcement working to deconstruct that same racism. I do not have to choose either one or the other.

I can hold police who hold the power of life and death to high standards of accountability AND I can acknowledge the difficulty police officers have when making split second decisions regarding the use of force. I do not have to choose either one or the other.

On my better days, I follow Jesus Christ who condemned systems of violence and oppression AND loved the people caught in those systems. He teaches us we do not have to choose either one or the other.

Chase Peeples is pastor of Country Club Congregational United Church of Christ along with a bunch of other things including a father, a husband and a friend.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/07/blacklivesmatterorthepolice/feed/2I Now Pronounce You Divorcedhttp://newsacred.org/2016/07/i-now-pronounce-you-divorced/
http://newsacred.org/2016/07/i-now-pronounce-you-divorced/#commentsFri, 01 Jul 2016 12:30:35 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3117Leah Lyman Waldron - Clergy don't traditionally preside over divorces. But "conscious uncoupling" might be what it would look like if we did.]]>Maybe you heard the buzz a few years ago when Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin “consciously uncoupled”—shorthand for amicably divorced. At the time, I joined others in dismissing it as a New Age-y claim to somehow be beyond the pain, shame, and notoriety that often accompany divorce in our society.

But earlier this year I listened to a podcast where one half of a non-celebrity couple described how they had “consciously completed” their marital relationship. (The other half of the couple wrote a blog post to share his experience as well.)

The host also interviewed the woman who wrote the book on conscious uncoupling, and while the book’s tone is more “follow your bliss” than “uphold your marriage covenant,” its process, as the podcast couple used it, sounded profoundly challenging and compassionate.

Pair that with Malachi 2:16 where God says, “the man who hates and divorces…covers his garment with violence,” and suddenly it looks like hatred and hardness of heart within marriage are the real concerns here.

I think we ridicule people like Paltrow and Martin in part because we accept the status quo that divorce is a pitched battle. We talk about “fighting for our marriage,” friends taking sides, and “lawyering up” when things go south, as if the value of a union is measured by how much blood is spilled in the attempt to save it.

No clergy I know want to contribute to the divorce rate by making it “easy” to end a marriage. By contrast, “conscious completion” sounds like we gave up too easily. After all, if you can remain on decent, even friendly terms after a divorce, was it really that bad to begin with?

But we might have it backwards.

If marriages only end when we’ve wounded each other irreparably, maybe we’ve missed the opportunity to recognize a broken relationship before it breaks us.

The hallmarks of conscious uncoupling—honestly naming our conflicts and emotions, working with integrity on our own history and baggage, gracefully facing the truth that our marriage is over, striving to maintain a soft heart toward the other person even as we dissolve a relationship—are not easy. In some respects, they are harder than blowing up a marriage via traditional deal-breakers like infidelity.

As someone who presides over weddings where the marriage covenant is made, it feels counterintuitive and somewhat uncomfortable to look for a soft-hearted way out. But if we take Jesus’ admonition about hard-heartedness and God’s distaste for marital hatred seriously, shouldn’t we be looking for a more caring model when that covenant ends?

‘Cause let’s be real: covenants end. Even the one Christian marriage is most often compared to—God’s covenant with Israel—was repeatedly broken through Israel’s infidelity and would have ended in divorce if not for the infinite graciousness of God.

God’s grace is definitely something to strive to model in marriage, but last I checked, every last one of us married or formerly married people is merely human and we fall far short of matching God’s track record.

For the podcast couple, “conscious uncoupling” was by no means a process devoid of pain or sorrow, but it was devoid of rancor—and, actually, full of grace, and love.

Clergy don’t traditionally preside over divorces. But “conscious uncoupling” might be what it would look like if we did.

Rev. Leah Lyman Waldron is a thrift-vangelist, writer, preacher, preacher’s wife, mama, and Midwesterner transplanted to the South. She has a not-so-secret passion for pop music and loves being the lone millenial in her baby boomer-filled yoga class. Born & raised UCC, she’s bi-vocational, preaching at Decatur UCC in Atlanta every other Sunday while doing admin work at a big Presbyterian church during the week. She blogs at http://thriftshopchic.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/07/i-now-pronounce-you-divorced/feed/4God and Their Pronounshttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/god-and-their-pronouns/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/god-and-their-pronouns/#commentsWed, 29 Jun 2016 12:30:59 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3115Michelle Schohn (guest writer) - If God in referring to Self says “us,” perhaps we should be saying “They.”]]>I have been thinking a lot about pronouns lately.

Much of it stems from the recent debate over bathrooms and who gets to serve as the potty police. I am not transgender, and yet the debate is personal to me.

Among my people, I am considered a “Two-Spirit,” or someone who possesses both a male and a female spirit. This has always fit with how I feel myself, neither really male nor really female, but both. I am very comfortable in my own skin.

But there are those who are not comfortable with me. These are the ones who have called me “sir” since long before I cut my hair short. Some quickly apologize. Some laugh nervously. Some snicker.

Because I feel like I am both, it has never bothered me, except on the rare occasions when the person seemed hostile.

I fear those occasions are increasing. I see more and more reports of attacks on trans* people. And these attacks aren’t limited to trans* people. There are all sorts of gender non-conforming people being accosted in restrooms, even if they are using the restroom that corresponds with the sex to which they were assigned at birth.

One such person is a friend of mine who is a sergeant in the Marine Corps. She is part of the elite group of Marines who guard our embassies. And she has been thrown out of the women’s bathroom because she looks too much like a boy. A nice “thank you” for your service.

A recent piece by UCC minister Emily Heath describes a similar struggle. Emily is also gender non-conforming. They joke with their wife that if they aren’t back from a public restroom in five minutes, to come looking for them.

It is becoming less of a joke.

I fear it is a matter of time before I am accosted as well.

I wonder if this whole issue gives us an opportunity as progressive Christians to examine the language we use.

Because language matters.

When we refer to gender rather than sex and then insist on gender being binary, we negate the lives of those who live along the spectrum of gender.

We negate the lives of those assigned a sex at birth that doesn’t correspond with their identity, or those who fall into the at least three categories of intersex, meaning those with biological traits of both sexes. These folks too have typically been assigned a sex at birth, often surgically, and often incorrectly.

Likewise, when we refer to God as He, we negate the lives of women and their connectedness to the Creator. In my own church, and other UCC churches I have attended, we have struggled to find more inclusive ways to refer to God, whether calling God both father and mother, or changing the words to the doxology to refer to Creator, Christ and Holy Ghost rather than Father, Son and Holy Ghost. And often, we have shunned the use of pronouns.

What if we didn’t?

Many in the transgender and gender non-conforming community have sought a third way through the use of “they” as a singular pronoun.

I know there are those who reject the use of “they” in the singular. I confess to being something of a grammar nerd myself. Yet we have a history of using the pronoun “they” when the sex of the person about whom we are speaking is not known.

As I saw in a recent discussion of the matter, two wait staff noticed a customer left behind a coat. “I wonder if they know they left it?” “Let’s put it in the lost and found in case they return.”

See, we’ve been using it all along.

What if we used it for God?

What if instead of tying ourselves in knots trying to avoid using “He,” or at least using “He” and “She” together, we defaulted to “they?”

We’d be doing a number of things.

First, we would be referring to God in the way that They referred to themselves. In the plural.

Remember in Genesis 1:26, God says: “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.”

And too in Genesis 3:22: “And the LORD God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever:”

If God, in referring to Self, says “us,” perhaps we should be saying “They.”

But using “They” would accomplish more than that. It would be a recognition of the radical inclusiveness that is God. The God that created all things, including all sexes and all genders.

It would mean that our understanding of God is limited by our understanding of ourselves, but that we recognize that God is not limited. Often, we are neither male nor female. Neither then is God. We were created in God’s image, male and female, because God’s image is male and female.

And by using “They,” we not only recognize the abundance that is God, but we welcome all of the abundance that is God’s Creation into the arms of our Creator and Their Church.

Michelle Schohn is a U.S. Foreign Service Officer posted with her wife to Pristina, Kosovo. She and her wife are members of Pilgrim United Church of Christ in Silver Spring, Md.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/god-and-their-pronouns/feed/5The Blessing of Failureshttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-blessing-of-failures/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-blessing-of-failures/#commentsMon, 27 Jun 2016 12:30:04 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3108Jeff Nelson - I’ve learned way more about faithful ministry from stories of failure than those of success.]]>As a pastor, I read a lot of books and articles about church practice.

I read about the new best way to organize governing boards and committees that do away with tired forms from the 1950s.

I read about the changes that Christian education programs require to thrive when families and youth have so many more activities competing for their attention.

I read about increasingly creative worship ideas to engage people who need something to stimulate them in ways other than the printed or auditory word.

I read about fantastic new mission and evangelism programs that “meet the culture where it is” and promise to be the next new big bold wonderful ministry to 21st century seekers.

Some of these are more concerned with big picture inspiration, calling the church to have the courage to think and act in new ways. Others are more practical, detailing how a faith community might pursue its goal to provide the envisioned model or program.

Far and away, a feature common to many of these writings is the success story.

“First Church in Omaha began offering our prayer station worship idea, and now they’ve doubled their Sunday morning attendance!”

“Christ the Redeemer in San Diego gave up Sunday School and started doing things like I suggest, and now their faith formation ministry is thriving!”

“St. John’s in Teaneck implemented our open door policy for their homeless population. Listen to all these wonderful life-changing anecdotes!”

These stories can do a lot to show the reader that what the author proposes is really possible. If they can do it, so can you, wherever you are!

Of course, these pieces never tell the failure stories. They never share accounts of when churches meet a wall of opposition or a black hole of apathy, encounter a strong start that quickly flames out, or sabotage themselves by trying too hard to do things the exact way listed in the book.

These stories of failure are better tucked into couch cushions or hidden behind corners. Don’t worry about those. The point is that what I’m sharing can work! You have to believe me! Just go ahead and do it!

I have plenty of my own failure stories.

I could tell you about the pub discussion group that enjoyed a few months of high interest before fizzling out.

I could tell you about the young adult group that ended after a few meetings because everyone became too busy.

I could tell you about the community mission that was too ambitious and disorganized to work.

I could tell you about acts of “radical hospitality” that only encouraged bad behavior and pushed me to the brink of complete burnout.

These stories caused me to go back and figure out what could have gone better. They taught me to keep striving on behalf of God’s kingdom, but to keep my head out of the clouds while doing it. They taught me about expectations and what to consider the next time.

I’ve learned way more about faithful ministry from stories of failure than those of success.

But nobody wants to tell those.

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He is author of the book Coffeehouse Contemplative: Spiritual Direction for the Everyday. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture athttp://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-blessing-of-failures/feed/5Can We Stand Together?http://newsacred.org/2016/06/can-we-stand-together/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/can-we-stand-together/#commentsFri, 24 Jun 2016 12:30:51 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3098Traci Blackmon (guest writer) - As people of faith, we have crafted a sinister sense of what it means to stand in solidarity.]]>As people of faith, we have crafted a sinister sense of what it means to stand in solidarity.

In the book written by the mother of Amadou Diallo (remember him?), “I Carry My Heart Across The Waters,” the mother says she wrote the book because “the only thing worse than you killing his body is you killing his story too.” So she takes ownership of his story.

A key determinant of liberation is who owns the story.

I believe this is why in Exodus, when God replies to the cries of bondage, it is Moses who he calls.

I believe this is why in Luke, when the bent over woman comes to hear Jesus, Jesus calls her to the center of worship and then straightens her back. He can heal her from a distance, but then her pain is no longer central to the “loosing of her body.”

Those who are in pain must be at the center of the story.

And it is critical that those who are at the center of the pain not be washed away in our privileged waves of goodwill.

It is their story. Their journey.

And they must lead us through the wilderness of this (their) moment. This is the only way liberation occurs.

But for those of us who hold privilege in various places, liberation is a foreign construct. We do not recognize it and we reach for emancipation in its stead.

We struggle to stand with as opposed to standing for. We are intoxicated with the notion of freeing some folk.

But God does not emancipate. God liberates. God never assigns the ultimate responsibility for freedom to those outside of the community of the oppressed because freedom at the hands of another comes with new chains.

I believe this is why it is essential to the story that Jesus came from “the hood.”

Liberation is a God act, and it is always led from within.

So this requires us to take a stand, but not take over. To open doors, but not screen invitees. To offer platforms, but not control the narrative.

The question is not whether or not, as a leader, I have the capacity to speak to the pain of varying communities. The question is whether I have the wisdom not to.

Rev. Traci Blackmon is a national officer in the United Church of Christ.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/can-we-stand-together/feed/2Creating a Culture of Consenthttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/creating-a-culture-of-consent/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/creating-a-culture-of-consent/#commentsWed, 22 Jun 2016 12:30:16 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3103Amy Johnson (guest writer) - When faith communities remain silent about sexual assault, we silently condone rape culture.]]>My sister-in-law messaged me with a link to a now “gone viral” post by the woman who was raped by a swimmer at a prominent university. My sister-in-law said, “You should make this required reading for all the older teens in your sex ed classes!”

The letter is long. It’s painful to read– documenting the unintended ruining of the lives of young people, and the unimaginable pain of their families. Being the parent of young adults myself, my heart and soul ached. But was I surprised?

What do we expect when we make our daughters sit through talks about how to prevent being sexually assaulted, but we don’t create programs for young men about how not to get caught up in seeing women as objects?

What do we expect when we live in a culture that is so conflicted about sexuality and a religious culture where the loudest voices shout various renditions of “Just say no!”?

If you are in a faith community, check out the Sexuality and Our Faith companion manuals to OWL that bring faith traditions into the discussions.

Conversations about sexuality, consent, relationships, power and agency take a long time. At the very least, check out 100conversations.org to help you get started talking.

Should the Stanford article be required reading and should you let your teen read it? Yes, you should let your teen read it—with these caveats:

Read it first, or read it with them—and not just with your female teens, but also with your male teens.

Talk about it. Ask how they feel when they hear those details. Think how you feel when you hear those details.

Ask if they think it was realistic. (Yes, unfortunately, it was.)

Talk about what could have been done to create a different outcome. Be sure to focus not only on what the young woman could have done, but also what the young man could have done.

Make sure they know ways to be safe when they are not with you. There are several apps available for phones that alert someone if you need help.

You may have more questions to discuss, but the important thing is not to be silent. Start talking today.

Amy Johnson, MSW, CSE is on national staff as the United Church of Christ Our Whole Lives Coordinator. She is co-author of Homegrown Faith and Justice and Our Whole Lives for Grades 4-6, 2nd Ed. She is passionate about promoting safe and healthy sexuality education and culture in faith communities.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/creating-a-culture-of-consent/feed/2People I am not Interested in Hatinghttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/people-i-am-not-interested-in-hating/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/people-i-am-not-interested-in-hating/#commentsTue, 21 Jun 2016 12:30:11 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3091Rev. Stephen Carnahan (guest writer) - I will give up the idea of violence as a solution to any problem, even the problem of violence.]]>It took me until midnight on Sunday to get my thoughts together enough to write about the shooting at the Pulse club in Orlando. I decided I needed to make a list. Here’s what I wrote:

PEOPLE I AM NOT INTERESTED IN HATING
1. Gay, lesbian, or any other persons because of their sexuality or lack thereof.
2. Muslims.
3. Members of the NRA and other gun advocates.
4. Black Americans.
5. Immigrants
6. Narcissistic, bombastic, presidential candidates.
7. Corporate polluters.
8. People that unfairly made life hard for me.
9. The guys that assaulted me on the street.
10. The New York Yankees
11. Fox News hosts. Not even Hannity.
12. Judas.
13. You.
14. Me.

Wow. This list could go on forever.

Why are so many people being presented to me as potential hate list members? God help us all.

I could go back through this list and take out all the jokes. Except that it really isn’t much of a joke. I find it very easy to get caught up in the hate that is around us. Just like we can walk through a city and breathe in the bus exhaust and not think about it, we can breathe in the hate. We can start just taking sips of the haters cup, but it’s pretty addictive stuff.

The thing we have to do to avoid breathing in the sort of hate we see around us is to keep it in mind and work against it. Change our ways. Let’s stop using words that fuel it. I actually have given up saying I hate the Yankees. I like to see them lose, but I don’t even want to give hating that much of an opening into my life.

I will try to be respectful of others. I will call them by the names or titles they choose, and try not to divide the world into them and us. There is no them. There’s only us.

I will give up the idea of violence as a solution to any problem, even the problem of violence. I am not going to drink from that cup or breathe that air.

Rev. Stephen Carnahan is the pastor of the High Street Congregational Church in Auburn, Maine. He has pastored other UCC congregations in PA, NY, and Portland, Maine.

We pause to share in the grief, sorrow and pain following the injuries and great loss of 50 lives in a hate crime that occurred in Orlando, FL late Saturday, June 11 and early Sunday, June 12. Our prayers are with the families and loved ones in this tragic occurrence. Our prayers and solidarity are with our nation and world as we continue to imagine and hope for a world of peace, unity, and a beloved community.

We firmly believe that God’s love is great enough for us all. We condemn any act of violence as well as acts of discrimination and profiled violence that seek to target and harm persons due to orientation, race, religion, gender and the like. During a time of great progress and strides for equality and inclusiveness; this tragedy is a painful blow.

However, it is not a setback to our progress or our resolve to be a community where all are welcomed. We will not become victims of fear or support the demonizing of one group in order to affirm another. We must not allow homophobia, Islamophobia and racism to prevail due to misguided fears and/or ignorance. This is a moment in time to recommit ourselves as One people in the body of Christ. This is a moment to affirm the Mosiac law to “love thy neighbor as thy self”. This is a moment to love through our prayers, our presence and our practice of justice and faith.

This may seem a monumental task, but we are able to achieve this, together. As our youth prepare to travel to Orlando for the National Youth Event next month–we will embrace our theme and scripture tightly with mission and purpose. Our theme calls us to simply “Believe” and it is underscored by biblical scripture, Hebrews 11:1 which states, “Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen.”

Our hearts are heavy and our eyes are filled with tears, but our vision and hopes for justice, peace, equality and love remain clear and unburied.

We believe. We believe in a God of justice. We believe God hears our cries. We believe God is with us and laments with us. Even as we may not always see it clearly amidst such pain–we believe!

We will pause to remember these beautiful spirits who died senselessly, but not in vain. We will remember them at National Youth Event and in our daily work and witness. We invite you to share in this steadfast and unapologetic witness and work in solidarity with our LGBTQI and Muslim communities across the land.

John 13:35 ESV
“By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Colossians 3:14 ESV
“And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”

Believe!

Rev. Waltrina Middleton

Rev. Waltrina Middleton is the Associate for National Youth Event Programming.

]]>Prayers for Pulse: UCC voices on the Orlando shootinghttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/prayers-for-pulse-ucc-voices-on-the-orlando-shooting/
Tue, 14 Jun 2016 19:24:53 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3010Here are words from voices within the United Church of Christ, following the tragic shooting during a Latinx night at Pulse, a gay nightclub in Orlando.

For those mourning the compromising of their sanctuaries:

For the queer clergy who will navigate supporting people and grieving…

“47 years after Stonewall, it is still an act of courage for some people to be honest about who they are and who they love.”

“If you are fortunate enough to be able to talk about the people you date and the person with whom you’ve chosen to share your life, and about your gender identity, in every setting, without any thought that you could lose your family, children, friends, job, home, or even your life, be grateful to whatever transcendent truth you recognize.”

“But also be aware that there are many who must still guard our speech, be selective about with whom we share the truth of our lives, be careful about where and with whom we are seen. And even when we’re in a space that should be safe, we still are not safe.”

“For many members of the LGBT community the bar and/or club are places of both refuge and sanctuary. When we go there we are on holy ground.”

“In the coming days as the world seeks to shape a narrative of what occurred in Orlando, FL, let us be clear that this is an issue of unbridled homophobia and heterosexism wrapped up and codified in an ethic that does foster love.”

“We dodge conversations on the discrimination that happens to our friends of color, the catcalls and assaults and violence in homes that happens to our sisters, the ways that Muslims feel threatened just by living in this country. We can point our fingers at everyone else that doesn’t look anything like us. It’s their fault… It has to be… I’m just sitting on my cozy corner minding my own business.”

“But when the hateful rhetoric in our country is getting louder and louder and more people are dying and being abused because of their color, religion, sexual orientation, gender/gender identity/gender expression, then we as people of faith need to stop sitting in our cozy corners and get ourselves out into the world.”

As an openly queer pastor, and a proud Puerto Rican, I must urgently and clearly declare that our God is not a God of hatred. God made us just as we are in all of our Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer glory. We are made in God’s image. We are part of God’s creation- the same creation that God regarded and declared good. All of those who are using this tragedy in our community to promote messages of hatred are perpetuating the violence against our bodies and our spirits.

Hate is not a Christian value.

Nor is it a Muslim value.

Hate comes from homophobia and racism. We won’t let hate have the last word. Let’s commit to finding ways to amplify messages of love. Let’s find new ways of resisting fear and hatred.

We must cry, we must give voice to our rage and our pain, but let’s do it together. Hatred cannot break us apart. We will not be silenced. We will not disappear. We will not hide.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:5)

The love of God is made manifest in us. Let’s love each other then as an act of faith, as an act of defiance, as an act of survival, as an act of justice. Love wins in the end.

The Reverend Thea L. Racelis is the Minister at South Congregational Church in Middletown, CT. She has a background in community organizing and social justice. She has many wonderful memories of nights spent laughing, sweating, and dancing in the holy sanctuary of gay bars in her native Puerto Rico, and many Latin Nights around the continental U.S.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/el-odio-no-es-valor-cristiano/feed/1Hold on and Know You are not Alonehttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/hold-on-and-know-you-are-not-alone/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/hold-on-and-know-you-are-not-alone/#commentsTue, 14 Jun 2016 17:24:58 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3038Brittany Caine-Conley - You cannot deny us access to your God and then offer up prayers for us!]]>Today we grieve and we cry and we mourn.

Since I heard the dreadful news about the mass murder and attack on the LGBTQ+ community, I haven’t been able to do much other than cry and ponder and sleep.

I’ve wanted to take action; I’ve wanted to write and rally and respond.

But first, I needed to mourn. So let us continue to wail for the lives cut short.

Let us wail for the victims and their families and their friends. Let us wail for every person who is now afraid to step foot inside the sanctuary of a nightclub. Let us wail for every person who is now afraid to close their eyes in church. Let us wail for every second grader who is now afraid to go to school.

And then, when we are ready, whether it’s tomorrow, next week or further down the road, we must take action. We must take action to end homophobia, to end gun violence, to end Islamophobia, to end the way we accept vitriol in this country.

We wail and we pray and then we act. Because empty prayers are the greatest disgrace.

To those who perpetuate violence against the LGBTQ+ community with their violent discourse and their violent policies, WE DON’T WANT YOUR PRAYERS. To those who refuse to say that black lives matter, WE DON’T WANT YOUR PRAYERS. To those who blame our prevalent gun violence on the Islamic community, WE DON’T WANT YOUR PRAYERS.

And as for us, we are tired, we are weary, we are devastated. We ache. But we are not alone. We will keep fighting injustice. We will challenge our government and our faith communities and the media and our families. We will no longer allow LGBTQ+ youth to be bullied. We will no longer allow our transgender friends to be excommunicated from bathrooms. We will no longer allow the powerful majority to write our story.

My dear friends, hope is only hope, when hope is least possible. So in the face of despair and great injustice, hold on.

Hold on and know that you are not alone.

Brittany lives in Charlottesville, VA with her wife Lindsay and their skeptical dog Eliza. She enjoys dancing, deconstructing destructive dominions of dominance, and alliterations. Above all else, Brittany tries to keep it real.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/hold-on-and-know-you-are-not-alone/feed/4Did I Just Wake Up from A Nightmare?http://newsacred.org/2016/06/did-i-just-wake-up-from-a-nightmare/
Tue, 14 Jun 2016 17:09:56 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3032Patrick G. Duggan - Wait! This IS a nightmare. I AM sleeping. ALL people of faith are sleeping. We only wake up to yell at each other. ]]>I was half sleeping with the television on, and either I was having a nightmare or I heard somebody tell a really bad joke. Guy walks into a gay club with an assault rifle and hundreds of rounds of ammunition…

Wait. Did a guy really do that? No, something must be wrong here.

How does a guy walk around an international resort city with an assault rifle and all that ammo? Did he sneak it in under a trench coat? Is that the way people walk around near Disney World?

How does a guy who was interviewed for possible terrorist links two times by the FBI walk into a gun store and buy an assault rifle? How does a gun store sell an assault rifle in any community in the United States? For that matter, why do we need a gun store anywhere?

Did this guy, while emptying his assault rifle, killing 49 people and wounding another 50+ people, really take out his cell phone and call 911 to report what he was doing; to profess his allegiance to a tiny, wealthy, violent, hate-filled self-appointed nation?

Did the political right say that we cannot ban assault weapons because ‘the bad guys have them so we should be able to get them’? Did the politicos on the left make the same lamenting remarks about how wrong it is to not pass more aggressive gun control legislation?

Over 103 people shot in Orlando with 50 dead this weekend, and 64 shot in Chicago two weeks ago? Do we keep diddling around and let 40 more people get shot each week for the next four weeks?

Wait! This IS a nightmare. I AM sleeping. ALL people of faith are sleeping. We only wake up to yell at each other.

Sorry, go back to sleep.

The Reverend Doctor Patrick Garnet Duggan is a native New Yorker, the son of a Jamaican cabinet maker and a New York attorney. He serves as Senior Pastor of the Congregational Church of South Hempstead UCC and Executive Director of the UCC Church Building and Loan Fund. He loves writing, preaching, teaching, helping church leaders with difficult building projects, and talking about how the church can use its resources to change the world. Twitter: @revduggan1

]]>When We Nurture Love Not Hatehttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/when-we-nurture-love-not-hate/
Tue, 14 Jun 2016 16:31:16 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3020Lawrence Richardson - When we nurture love not hate, we will live in a society where all children who are LGBTQ will have the same opportunity to thrive as their counterparts.]]>This time it’s different. When it was 9/11, the attacks against our nation gave us pause to consider what it means to be an American. When it was Sandy Hook, there was no connection between the gunman and the slain, and we chalked up this terror as a manifestation of mental instability. When it was Trayvon Martin, we were reminded of what fear looks like as it relates to black and brown bodies.

This time it’s different. Orlando is different.

The connection between the gunman and his victims is like predator and prey. He hunted them because they were gay. He didn’t hunt them because they were American. He didn’t hunt them because he was ill. He didn’t hunt them because of a split-second decision that resulted in a fired bullet.

An American born person—who also happens to be brown, male, Muslim, and a Millennial—opened fire in a place he selected because it contained such a large amount of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer people at one time.

This act of terror suggests that our communities are not safe for LGBTQ people. This terrorist attack happened because the gunmen saw two men kissing, got angry, and then exacted a plan that resulted in him opening fire in a LGBTQ nightclub killing and wounding innocent people.

He didn’t kill them because they were Americans. He didn’t kill them because he was Muslim. He didn’t kill them because they were predominantly people of color dancing in the club that night. He didn’t kill them because he was mentally ill. He killed them because they were LGBTQ.

We live in a society where some preachers use their pulpits to condemn people to hell who are LGBTQ, using ignorant and academically undeveloped interpretations of Scripture. We have families who would disown children who are LGBTQ rather than provide them with caring and nurturing environments. We have politicians who use their platforms to promote legislation that restricts the civil rights of people who are LGBTQ. And now we have a lone gunman who opens fire in a night club where people were dancing the night away because they might have been LGBTQ.

There is a connection.

When we nurture a society against particular groups of people, we condition a culture where individual perspectives can justify even the most heinous of acts against those groups of people. It’s time to reassess our values as a nation. Do we tire of promoting the value of some people over others? Do we allow our own interpretations and understandings to be informed by research and sound information?

There are those who fear embracing people who are LGBTQ because, for them, to challenge their religious beliefs about people who are LGBTQ is synonymous with challenging God, and their understanding of God is neither mature enough nor expansive enough to bear the weight of the wrestling and discerning that produces greater spiritual awareness.

Likewise, there are those who fear embracing people who are LGBTQ people because they will lose their paycheck. The donations of those who actively encourage anti-LGBTQ legislation line the pockets of some of the most prominent religious and political leaders and for these leaders, honesty, poverty and the fear of scarcity are all too connected.

As our hearts grieve the reality of what happened in Orlando, and however we draw connections between the social, religious and political climate concerning people who are LGBTQ, may we give ourselves space to be open.

Open to assessing our own interpretations and understandings. Open to considering what it means for our society to be structured to nurture and encourage the human value and sacred worth of all people. Open to receiving the fullness of God so that we might have an example of what Love can look like if it were truly moving and active in our midst.

When we nurture love not hate, we will live in a society where we won’t need restrictions at airports or on guns because people won’t find it necessary to exterminate one another. When we nurture love not hate, we will live in a society where all children who are LGBTQ will have the same opportunity to thrive as their counterparts. When we nurture love not hate, we will live in a society where the laws that govern our society will have all our best interest in mind.

When we nurture love not hate, we will live in a society where the realm of God will be tangible for us here, now.

Rev. Lawrence T. Richardson is a United Church of Christ pastor, digital evangelist, and transgender rights advocate. You can find him online at LTRichardson.com.

]]>Do You Count the Killer?http://newsacred.org/2016/06/do-you-count-the-killer/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/do-you-count-the-killer/#commentsTue, 14 Jun 2016 13:53:22 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3080Dwight Wolter - In our understandable rush to carve the world into hemispheres of perpetrators and victims, we risk stopping with a candle and a prayer vigil until the next incident occurs. ]]>“We don’t really count the shooter as a victim,” FBI Special Agent Paul Wysopal said at a Monday morning press conference and reported today in the New York Post.

That makes perfect sense: Perpetrators are not victims; they are victimizers. Therefore, the number of victims in Orlando was changed from 50 to 49, and we will not see 50 candles burning in memory of the deceased. This should surprise no one. But not everyone feels that way.

A pastor serving a church in Binghamton, New York, left a 14th candle at the site of a vigil for the 13 victims of a mass murder perpetrated by a Vietnamese immigrant in 2009 at the American Civic Association. Within an hour of being left there, the 14th candle and marker were extinguished and smashed to bits. This should surprise no one. But not everyone feels that way.

In 2008, I presided over the funeral of a Latino hate crime murder victim who was killed by seven teenagers from the local high school. I reached out to Archbishop Desmond Tutu for support. He wrote to me from London that he was praying for me; for our church; for the victim and his friends and family; for the victimizers and their friends and families; and for the entire community that had also been horribly wounded. Taking his advice, I became “friends” with some of the families, especially the father of the killer. This should surprise no one. But not everyone feels that way.

Killers can also be victims. This does not mean that they should not be held accountable for their horrific crimes. The killer in my community was a victim of stupidity. He was also the victim of perhaps countless childhood dinner table discussions about the “bad guys” (Latino immigrants) who were moving to town in large numbers. He was a victim of indoctrination by civic, political and (yes) even religious leaders who were intentional or unintentional carriers of the virus of hatred and bigotry.

Omar Mateen told Orlando police in a 9-1-1 call that he pledged allegiance to ISIS. But he also mentioned other people and radical Islamic organizations—many of which are seen as competitors, not allies, of each other. Was Mateen a victim of mental illness, grasping for an excuse for his behavior? Perhaps he suffered from a cracked mind and porous soul.

The FBI told CNN that the agency was “highly confident” that the gunman was radicalized, at least in part, by viewing extremism on the Internet—and that there was “potential inspiration” by terrorist organizations. Was Mateen a victim of being radicalized and inspired to commit acts of extremism and terrorism by the Internet? Are we naïve or nuts for delivering our children up to unbridled and unlimited access to hate and terror via sophisticated images tailored for them and broadcast free of charge to them on the Internet?

In our understandable rush to carve the world into hemispheres of perpetrators and victims, we risk stopping with a candle and a prayer vigil until the next incident occurs (and we all know there will be another).

We want to hate the hater and project the capacity for evil on everyone else.

We want to separate hate speech from hate acts, as if there is no relation.

Part of me wishes that Mateen had lived so that we could kill him. But part of me wants to light a candle for the killer and those who were killed by him. Today I light a candle for mercy for a world that seems at times to be hopelessly messed up and broken into countless pieces. And today I pray for wisdom so that no killer can succeed in convincing me to kill parts of myself with the self-inflicted wounds of hatred and fear. Therefore, today I light a candle for us all.

Dwight Lee Wolter is pastor of the Congregational Church of Patchogue on Long Island, New York. He is the author of several books and blogs at dwightleewolter.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/do-you-count-the-killer/feed/3The Rise of Casual Christianshttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-rise-of-casual-christians/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-rise-of-casual-christians/#commentsFri, 10 Jun 2016 12:30:36 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3005Michelle Torigian - With Mainline Protestant church attendance declining, is this the time to be critical of what others wear and how laid-back they act in our sanctuaries?]]>Since my childhood in the 1970s and 1980s, formalities have decreased in each arena of society.

It’s not news that most of our churches reflect this growing sense of casualness.

In most of our churches, there is a growing acceptance of casual clothes as the norm. More people wear jeans and shorts in churches. And in the summer, some mainline Protestant clergy hang up their robes and preach in something more casual.

Even the way that we act in church has become more informal.

As a child, I remember the solemn nature entering the sanctuary. We would quietly pray immediately after taking our seats. Now, people immediately turn to their neighbors to catch up on what happened during the week once they enter the church. Sometimes, people enter sanctuaries sipping on a cup of coffee, soda or bottled juice.

Some Christians are concerned over this growing informality. Occasionally, I hear criticisms of the casual outfits some choose or the high levels of energy exuded by those entering churches.

But with mainline Protestant church attendance declining, is this the time to be critical of what others wear and how laid-back they act in church?

Many of us are not necessarily endorsing an “anything goes” approach. But encouraging a “come as you are” mindset does not mean we take our faith, church and the Sabbath any less seriously. This doesn’t mean we respect God any less.

By affirming this more informal attitude of those in our pews, we support authenticity in sanctuaries and throughout every area of church life.

And to those who disagree with the “come as you are” approach, it’s important to be aware that if we don’t accept people as they are, they will find churches that do. Or they will stop attending church altogether, adopting a belief that God doesn’t accept a laid-back attitude.

Just because we may seem more informal does not mean we take our relationship with God less seriously. It means we give permission for people to be comfortable and genuine as they worship God.

Instead of shutting out people for being their authentic selves, let us embrace each and every sister and brother in the faith – whether they wear holy holey jeans, shorts, sundresses, athletic wear, pajamas, hats, gloves, piercings or tattoos.

Rev. Michelle L. Torigian is the pastor of St. Paul United Church of Christ, Old Blue Rock Road in Cincinnati, Ohio. Prior to ministry, Torigian worked in fundraising and marketing for nonprofits as her previous career. She graduated from Eden Theological Seminary in 2010. Torigian is the author of a number of articles on the Huffington Post Religion page including “Between Childless and Childfree,” a reflection for Mother’s Day. Recently, her essay “Always the Pastor, Never the Bride” was published in the book “There’s a Woman in the Pulpit” (Skylight Paths Publishing, 2015). Torigian regularly posts her musings on current events, justice issues, pop culture, and theology at www.michelletorigian.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-rise-of-casual-christians/feed/5Nine (Tweetable) Lessons I Learned from #BlackLivesMatterhttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/nine-tweetable-lessons-i-learned-from-blacklivesmatter/
Wed, 08 Jun 2016 12:30:12 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=3000Timothy Tutt - Here are nine things I have learned from #BlackLivesMatter.]]>A recent Gallup poll says that the number of Americans who see racism as our leading national problem is rising.

The #BlackLivesMatter movement began with the use of the hashtag on social media after George Zimmerman was acquitted of the killing of African American teenager Trayvon Martin.

#BlackLivesMatter gained more traction after the 2014 deaths of Michael Brown in Ferguson and Eric Garner in New York.

Started by three African American women—Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi—the #BlackLivesMatter movement is a loosely structured, decentralized network with no formal organization or leadership.

Over the past three years, I have thought more critically about race and racism than at any other time in my life.

Here are nine things I have learned from #BlackLivesMatter. (In a nod to the movement’s social media origins, I’m offering them in tweet-sized bites.)

#BlackLivesMatter has taught me that privilege may seem invisible to the privileged. Privilege is never invisible to those without it.

#BlackLivesMatter has taught me that racism is not a “black people’s problem.” Racism is white people’s problem.

#BlackLivesMatter has made me see that I am racist. I don’t want to be. I try not to be. I am.

#BlackLivesMatter has helped me learn again that I can learn and change.

#BlackLivesMatter has reminded me again to listen to others more and fix others less.

#BlackLivesMatter has exposed a great deal of anger, fear, frustration and hatred in this country.

#BlackLivesMatter has taught me that the need for apology and atonement. Our nation hasn’t done that. I haven’t done that enough either.

#BlackLivesMatter gives me hope. Not a huge blazing sun of hope, but small rays.

These are only nine of many things. I’ve learned much more. Some of it is longer than tweetable sentences. Some of it is still running around in my head and doesn’t have words attached to it yet. Some of it so deep within me that I don’t know that I know it yet. Some of it may be too painful to type.

Are you part of the growing number of people who see racism as America’s leading problem?

#BlackLivesMatter has amplified and focused a conversation nationally (and an internal one for me). Add your voice. Tweet me. Email me. Chime in on Facebook. Let’s talk and listen and learn and change—and change together.

Timothy Tutt is a wanderer, wonderer, husband, father, laugher, liberal, Texan-by-birth, Washingtonian-by-choice (yep, DC). He is the senior minister at Westmoreland Congregational United Church of Christ in Bethesda. Take a look at his blog ZenTexas.blogspot.com

]]>The Sin of Stillnesshttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-sin-of-stillness/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-sin-of-stillness/#commentsMon, 06 Jun 2016 12:30:19 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2994Jeff Nelson - Are we able to be still and take delight in what God has created us to be?]]>One of my daughter’s favorite shows at the moment is “Thomas the Tank Engine.” I haven’t yet figured out what she likes most about it, whether the stories or out of a growing fascination with trains. I suspect that it’s the latter.

A constant theme of this show is “usefulness.” Thomas is always trying to be useful, hoping that he can accomplish his tasks in a timely and efficient manner. He savors the praise of the island mayor when he is told he is a “very useful engine.”

I think this message from a seemingly benign children’s program reflects a common aspiration that many have.

For those of us who have some form of the so-called “Puritan work ethic” ingrained in us, “being useful” is our constant goal. We’re always on the move—running children to activities, scratching tasks off our to-do lists at work and home, running to the gym if we have time, and even getting to the evening church meeting or Sunday worship.

While at church, we may sometimes hear a verse from the Psalms that says, “Be still and know that I am God.” We often take this to mean that it’s good to slow down, to experience God’s presence. To take time and just be.

But we have families to care for. We have career responsibilities. We have piles of laundry and dirty dishes and growing grass. We have sports and band and dance practices.

And if we take even a moment to stop, we might risk not being useful. Perish the thought of a minute of downtime; a chance to catch our breath and allow our blood pressure to return to normal, let alone to acknowledge the Ground of all that we are.

The American cultural message that you have to be constantly moving in order to be useful is so ingrained in us as a society that we may secretly see God’s command to be still as a sin rather than an invitation to restfulness and peace.

“I can’t be still, God,” we say. “I have to impress my boss.”

“My neighbors.”

“My friends.”

“My family.”

“Myself.”

We don’t know how to be still, because we’ve internalized that it’s not an acceptable thing to do. It won’t get us ahead in life. It won’t allow us to be useful.

But maybe God’s concern isn’t first and foremost that we’re useful.

Maybe God’s concern is that we take time to acknowledge that our value isn’t primarily in our function but in the very fact that we’ve been created and are beloved.

After all, in the first creation story in Genesis, even God rested. And it wasn’t because God was tired, but because God wanted to just enjoy what God had done. The Hebrew word for rest, Menuha, also means “joyous repose.”

Are we capable of joyous repose in this busy world of ours? Are we able to be still and take delight in what God has created us to be?

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He is author of the book Coffeehouse Contemplative: Spiritual Direction for the Everyday. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture athttp://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/the-sin-of-stillness/feed/3How to Make Progressive Church More Inviting for Military Familieshttp://newsacred.org/2016/06/how-to-make-progressive-church-more-inviting-for-military-families/
http://newsacred.org/2016/06/how-to-make-progressive-church-more-inviting-for-military-families/#commentsThu, 02 Jun 2016 13:00:21 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2987Megan Snell - “Let's pray and march and vote for peace. But first, let's honor the gravity of
human willingness to give it all."]]>Dear Progressive Christian Pastors and Churches:

Here are some super basic things we could do to make our churches more inviting for military families:

Include military personnel/families in sermon illustrations.

When military personnel are deployed or away at lengthy training sessions, get the congregational care group engaged, and ask the family how they would like to be supported. (Casseroles? Prayers? Babysitting? Dog walking?)

Get trained on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, suicide, and re-entry. Get savvy to basic military terminology.

Maintain pastoral care with deployed church members through cards, emails, and visits with the family. They aren’t just away on a long business trip.

Invite your military families to share their stories, to be their whole selves.

Think rituals. Think about the laying on of hands before deployments. Think about blessings as people return. Think about integrating faith into their lives, not separating faith from their vocations.

Don’t talk about their military career as their “job” or their uniform as their “outfit.”

Double check that as you live out your progressive theologies, you are not simultaneously shaming military service.

Take time to sit in the reality that military personnel are some of the only people in our society who take an oath to give their lives for others. Instead of skipping straight to the “saving” piece of making peace not war—as if it is our job to save military people from their own oaths—sit in the uncomfortable, enormous reality that these people said yes to a John 15:13 kind of sacrifice.

Then, let’s pray and march and vote for peace. But first, let’s honor the gravity of human willingness to give it all.

Sincerely,

A Progressive Christian/Army Partner

Megan Snell is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ serving in the Boston Metro area. She is a Pastoral Resident at Wellesley Village Church and co-pastor of an emerging ministry, Open Table Dinner Church. Megan enjoys drumming, craft cider, music festivals, and hanging out with her dogs.

It’s the phrase bigots hate to hear and progressives love to denounce.

If you are white and clicked on this blog to be congratulated for naming your privilege, you can stop reading in a few characters.

Thank you for naming your privilege.

It’s a good starting point of solidarity with people of color (POC) to name that your privilege exists.

But naming your privilege is not the same thing as taking actions to reject it and dismantle white supremacy.

White allies are quick to remind others that social change couldn’t happen without them, while not focusing much time on rejecting the oppressive systems and behaviors that necessitated the social change in the first place.

Talking about privilege while not doing anything to dismantle white supremacy is like seeing a fire and never calling 911. It just doesn’t do much.

Many white allies focus on calling out overt racism while not focusing on the more subtle ways they may perpetuate the racism they condemn.

Here’s my call to you, anti-racism allies. Spend one day challenging yourself to confront the ways you may also be racist.

Protests and anti-racism discussions should always center on the oppression experienced by people of color. If you are an ally who always has the microphone or the bullhorn, you’re taking up too much space.

Stop contributing to gentrification and calling it “urban development.”

Many white allies feel too comfortable talking about white privilege without pushing for their residential communities to legislate against gentrification, which is like reverse white flight at the expense of a mass POC eviction notice.Are you living in a redlining district without calling out the displacement of people of color? Are you content with advocating for POC as long as you don’t have to live in their neighborhood?

Listen when people call you on your microaggressions.

Your intent to be anti-racist doesn’t necessarily mean you automatically fit the bill. If people call you on microaggressions, don’t argue—listen. If you knew a word or phrase was offensive, you probably wouldn’t have said it. Being an ally doesn’t mean you’re above being educated on racism.

Never invite POC to the table for the sake of claiming diversity.

“Diversity” is now a buzzword and “diversity work” is a very profitable industry. Don’t invite POC to your events so you can say they personify diversity or to hit an organizational quota. Engage with diverse communities because you plan on being intentional about hearing our stories and letting us come to the table authentically.

Refrain from using your POC friends as your “urban dictionary.

”If you are engaging in discussions about race, you won’t always understand cultural references. Your POC friends or colleagues are not your “urban dictionary.” (And yes, I’ve heard people ask me if they should look up words I’ve used in the urban dictionary.)You may have to do some research to participate in anti-racism work, and that’s okay. Just think; POC spend their entire lives learning about culture from a white supremacist perspective. A few minutes on Google won’t hurt you.

Stop lifting up non-confrontational POC as examples for what POC activism should be.

Martin Luther King, Jr. was a great man—but he wrote more than his “I Have a Dream” speech. Few white folks quote his “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” to talk about King’s Legacy:“I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice…”History through a white lens immortalizes the “safe,” diluted parts of liberation in hopes of POC seeking future liberation in similar ways. This framework centers the comfort of white folks and disregards the complexity of processing and rebelling against oppression.Here’s the thing—experiencing racism is a lot more uncomfortable than experiencing a radical response to it. If you’re uncomfortable with expressions of emotional pain by the oppressed, you may want to work harder at dismantling their oppression.

Call your friends, family and co-workers out on racism—even if a POC isn’t in the room.

I’ve had plenty of friends tell me stories about times their family members, friends, or colleagues said something racist. I usually wonder why they are telling me when most of their stories don’t end with them confronting the racism they encountered.How do you confront racism when the spotlight isn’t on you? Does it take a protest or a speech for you to call out racism? Can you address the racism of the people you love most?

Understand that all anti-racism work doesn’t look the same and advocate accordingly.

Sometimes anti-racism work is about Black folks. Sometimes anti-racism work is about the entire African Diaspora. Sometimes anti-racism work is about Asian American folks. Sometimes anti-racism work is about Southeast Asian immigrants.“People of color” is an umbrella term that doesn’t address the complexities of the many people who experience racism. Understand that POC don’t go to bed in one-size-fits-all pajamas; our struggles and our liberations require nuanced thinking and action.

Realize that all discussions about race aren’t for you.

And be okay with it.Should black people say the “n” word to each other? Should Beyoncé express her pain by calling someone Becky? Some conversations aren’t for white folks. They are intraracial critiques that don’t require an ally’s opinion. An anti-racist ally is like a guest at a family dinner. You’re invited to the table, but you should know what conversations require your abstention.

Recognize that you’re still racist. No matter what.

Sometimes, anti-racist allies talk in an “us vs. them” framework when they discuss race, with the “us” being POC and anti-racist allies and the “them” being racist people. That’s an oversimplification of centuries of racism, and it also avoids one simple truth.White people always benefit from institutionalized racism, no matter how anti-racist your ideologies may be. You can’t disconnect yourself completely from the racism from which you benefit, and recognizing that is a large step in rejecting white privilege.

Marchaé Grair is many things. A Netflix addict, puppy enthusiast, songbird, Millennial dreamer, and God lover, to name a few. She is the editor of New Sacred and social media associate for the United Church of Christ. Twitter: @MarchaeGrair

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/06/so-you-say-youve-got-white-privilege-now-what/feed/91Our Culture of Silencehttp://newsacred.org/2016/05/our-culture-of-silence/
http://newsacred.org/2016/05/our-culture-of-silence/#commentsThu, 05 May 2016 12:00:21 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2970Foster J. Pinkney - We must be careful not to contribute to the culture of silence surrounding the most personal forms of violence.]]>Everyone in the congregation I grew up in had to know what it meant when my mother arrived Sunday mornings with extra foundation on her face. Or when she wore long sleeves during the hot summer despite the lack of air-conditioning in the church.

The extra makeup was to cover the bruises around her eyes and along her jawline. The long sleeves were to cover the finger prints gouged into the flesh of her arms.

They had to know, because I clearly remember as a boy noticing similar signs in the sisters who would occasionally limp into the church or wince as they took their seats. We all knew that intimate partner violence was happening, but it was never addressed – a topic deemed inappropriate for a house of worship. Too private for public preaching and confrontation.

It has become a common trope in the mainline Protestant church to talk of making our congregations less comfortable – to embrace the challenge of the Gospel message often in opposition to prevailing structures of what is socially acceptable. The United Church of Christ, in particular, prides itself on speaking to the controversial and the taboo. Discomfort allows us to push the boundaries of theology and convert worship into a transformative practice.

But when was the last time you heard intimate partner violence, sexual assault, or child abuse addressed from the pulpit of your church? Once a year? Twice maybe? Never?

What is the content of the love that we preach so easily? What does it mean when that love is perverted by pain? What does it mean when we testify to a God of love, when love is a source of hurt to so many people?

The pastoral often conflicts with the need to preach truth and demand change. We would not want to have a parishioner terrified that their pain will made public through denunciation, but churches are places where we confront trauma. We must be careful not to contribute to the culture of silence surrounding the most personal forms of violence.

UCC preachers are skilled in speaking truth to power, but we must become equally dedicated to crying out into the void created by pain.

Jesus announced his mission when he said, quoting Isaiah 61:1, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor (Lk 4:18-19).” Intimate partner violence creates people held captive to false understandings of love.

And when we conceive of those that are oppressed, we can not only mean those oppressed by hegemonic structures of power. Nothing it more oppressive than the silence in service of a culture of abuse. We are all created to be free – to live openly into our full selves.

We all know that it is happening. As followers of Jesus as the Christ, what are we meant to do about it?

Foster J. Pinkney is a writer, student, and organizer from Columbus, Ohio. He is a recent graduate from Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York and started attending the University of Chicago Divinity School in September 2015, to study for a PhD in Religious Ethics.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/05/our-culture-of-silence/feed/3Marlon Brando and the Problem with Biblical Healingshttp://newsacred.org/2016/05/marlon-brando-and-the-problem-with-biblical-healings/
http://newsacred.org/2016/05/marlon-brando-and-the-problem-with-biblical-healings/#commentsTue, 03 May 2016 14:30:29 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2963Leah Lyman Waldron - "It turns out that Jesus isn’t the jerk; I am, along with the Pharisees and all those who avoid what makes us uncomfortable at the cost of someone else’s inclusion."]]>Recently I wrote a post for the sermon prep blog Modern Metanoia on one of Jesus’ healings.

My initial grappling with the text made Jesus seem like a jerk–never a promising start to a sermon.

I mean, who goes to a pool crowded with ill people and heals just ONE?

And who asks “do you want to be made well?” to someone who has obviously been trying his damnedest to do just that for 38 years?

And when Jesus just happens to be hanging out where the man he healed can conveniently point him out to the Pharisees, how can the whole thing not come off as some kind of twisted publicity stunt?

As a person without a disability, I can’t help but wonder how my fellow congregants who live with disabilities or chronic illness receive fraught texts like this one. It’s enough to make me want to avoid these passages altogether.

This time, though, I called up a friend who works in disability rights. He graciously educated me on person-first language and explained why the “medical cure” mindset so often illustrated in the Bible is problematic–it treats disability and illness (and often the person, too) as problems to be fixed, instead of as just one facet of a complex and rich life.

But he wisely left me to wrestle with the theological dilemma of scriptural healings on my own.

So I did, and I decided that the Jesus I know is not a jerk–at least not in the sense of viewing people with disabilities as damaged, unclean abominations needing a magical zap from God to be “normal.” That is how his society saw them, not how he did.

The Jesus I know is the incarnation of God’s fundamental commitment to human dignity, compassion, and agency. If the expression of that commitment in 1st century Palestine looked like “fixing” someone’s disability in a way that meant they could rejoin a society unwilling to include them as they were, today it looks very different—perhaps like the work of modern-day disability rights activists who fight for legal parity and adaptive environments.

There was still the publicity stunt to wrestle with, though. That needed a Marlon Brando epiphany.

A friend saw this clip of Brando’s 1972 Academy Award win and complained he manipulated Sacheen Littlefeather, the Apache woman who rejected the award on his behalf in order to spotlight Native American oppression and disenfranchisement, into serving as his mouthpiece. My friend thought it shored up Brando’s privilege while protecting him from the scrutiny and backlash of such a high profile confrontation.

Sound familiar?

I responded to my friend that Ms. Littlefeather was an activist herself; there is no reason to think she and Brando didn’t plan this political action together, as both protest against an unjust system and as bid to raise the visibility of those normally relegated to the sidelines.

Perhaps Jesus saw in the man he healed that day not a disability to be fixed or a branding opportunity, but a co-conspirator who chose to help publicize a message of societal transformation that would expose the hypocrisy of those committed to upholding the status quo.

It turns out that Jesus isn’t the jerk; I am, along with the Pharisees and all those who avoid what makes us uncomfortable at the cost of someone else’s inclusion.

Rev. Leah Lyman Waldron is a thrift-vangelist, writer, preacher, preacher’s wife, mama, and Midwesterner transplanted to the South. She has a not-so-secret passion for pop music and loves being the lone millenial in her baby boomer-filled yoga class. Born & raised UCC, she’s bi-vocational, preaching at Decatur UCC in Atlanta every other Sunday while doing admin work at a big Presbyterian church during the week. She blogs at http://thriftshopchic.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/05/marlon-brando-and-the-problem-with-biblical-healings/feed/1You are Not Your Depressionhttp://newsacred.org/2016/04/you-are-not-your-depression/
http://newsacred.org/2016/04/you-are-not-your-depression/#commentsWed, 20 Apr 2016 12:30:00 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2956Chase Peeples - "You are not your depression,” I said to him. ]]>“The real me is something bad, something that has to be controlled with drugs,” said the teen.

My heart sank to hear these words from the teenager I was speaking with. In previous conversations, he and his family had shared with me his years of struggle with depression which resulted in behavior ranging from extreme anxiety to anger and rage. For his parents, finding the right medication after a long roller coaster of emotional pain was a godsend. Their family had at times nearly fallen apart as they wrestled with what to do about their son. Yet, for the son, medication was a source of shame, a sign that he couldn’t control himself and an abiding sense that deep down he was a monster.

As I wondered what to say to this anguished teen, one of those Holy Spirit moments occurred and the words just came out of my mouth. “You are not your depression,” I said to him. “That’s just chemicals your brain has produced in the wrong amount. The medication gets rid of that interference, so the real you can come out.”

I went on to tell him about my own battles with depression. I had experienced episodes where everything seemed so bad and nothing seemed worth living for, but despite how “real” that view of the universe felt, it was all the chemicals talking—either too little or too much of various combinations in the brain. For me, medication was a gift from God which let the real me inside be revealed.

Sometimes theologians speak of the “true self,” “inner light,” or “divine spark” inside of us to describe that piece of us made in the image of God. That “real” self, as opposed to the false selves we show the world or mistakenly believe are legitimate, is our identity given by God.

To be human is to have trouble discovering that “true self,” but some of us have an additional complication in our search for who we really are, because we struggle with mental illness of one degree or another. That warped view of reality which is filtered through depression or another type of mental illness sure seems real enough, but God works though medication, therapy and relationships to help us discern who we really are and how good the world can be.

As our conversation ended, my teenage friend seemed to perk up with hope, “You mean I’m really not a bad person? The real me isn’t something bad?” I nodded and said, “Yeah, that’s just the chemicals; that’s not the real you.” He smiled tentatively, as if he was daring to believe, maybe for the first time, in his own worth.

Chase Peeples is pastor of Country Club Congregational United Church of Christ along with a bunch of other things including a father, a husband and a friend.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/04/you-are-not-your-depression/feed/2We Can’t Get Church Righthttp://newsacred.org/2016/04/we-cant-get-church-right/
http://newsacred.org/2016/04/we-cant-get-church-right/#commentsThu, 14 Apr 2016 13:30:00 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2952Brittany Caine-Conley - Let’s stop worshipping the concept of doing church the right way.]]>I thought I had found the perfect church. Five years ago, I found myself on the leadership team for a new church plant called RISE. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. We were focused on radical welcome, embracing everyone and advocating for social justice.

The ragtag community had wonderful energy. Our motto was Receive Love, Give Love, Repeat. After suffering maliciousness, societal posturing and boredom within other churches, I had finally captured a glimpse of God’s beloved community.

Within the first several months at RISE, I had decided that we, the leaders at RISE, had figured out the golden equation for faith communities. I felt assured that we had gotten it right!

Slowly, painfully, cracks began to form in my golden church idol. People were needy. Some of us were selfish. Leaders disagreed. We got comfortable. Ritual became rote. Feelings were hurt. People left. I was tired. Right sometimes felt wrong. Ideals collided with reality.

But this isn’t a story of church collapse; it is a story of beautiful, messy, unusual thriving.

Perspective has allowed me to move past a passionate infatuation with getting church right to a lingering love story that includes chaos, confusion and communion.

I’ve learned that there is no such thing as doing church the right way; there’s only the courage to dance with the unrestrained Spirit and be willing to fall on our faces. The key is authentic community, where we pick each other up and laugh at ourselves and say, “You are not alone there falling on your face.”

I was angry with RISE. I was disappointed. I wanted to leave many times. It was hard. But I stayed. And I loved it in an infuriating, passionate way. My life shifted geographically and now here I am, loving a different church with a mix of dissatisfaction and indescribable awe.

And this, I think, is what I’ve learned about church and relationship and community: The best, most worthwhile things can sometimes feel like the worst things. When we take that chance to love deeply, to commit wholeheartedly, we open ourselves to a vulnerability that can be both painful and restorative. Love is risky business.

I’ve figured out that the things I love most are also the things I sometimes despise. I’ve learned to love being wrong. The churches I see that are thriving are the ones who don’t have all the answers, the communities who don’t claim to do it right.

Church works when people are both frustrated and motivated; when people are willing to hold steady and willing to change.

There is no right way to worship, no formula to figure out social justice or small groups or spiritual renewal.

We can fall prey to shiny idols with finish lines and all the answers, or we can sit at the intersection of pain and possibility, inviting the Spirit to shake us to our core and envelop us with a chaotic peace.

Stop looking for answers. Let church be the question. Let church be the journey. Let the Spirit come and deconstruct the institutions and buildings we’ve constructed to contain the truth.

Love your church, and hate it sometimes, too.

Brittany lives in Charlottesville, VA with her wife Lindsay and their skeptical dog Eliza. She enjoys dancing, deconstructing destructive dominions of dominance, and alliterations. Above all else, Brittany tries to keep it real.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/04/we-cant-get-church-right/feed/3In the Wake of Catastrophehttp://newsacred.org/2016/04/in-the-wake-of-catastrophe/
Tue, 12 Apr 2016 12:30:27 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2948Foster Pinkney - "I study Christianity, but I do not understand it."]]>What is this faith that proclaims victory over death? That celebrates a savior risen yet hidden in mystery, calling for a belief transcending understanding?

The Easter Season reminds me of all the tombs that remain unopened. Of the promise of Jesus as the Christ contrasted with the common brutality of life yearning to escape death. I grieved at the tomb of my mother and the stone was not rolled away.

I remember how it felt to wait as the medics attempted to revive my mother. Clutching her purse, I struggled to find meaning in the void. Already I could feel her memory slipping from me, replaced by a hope that refused the world and the pain of her existence.

Weeks later, I found myself on the kitchen floor sobbing in the fetal position as I realized that an entire day had passed without my mother’s face at the forefront of my mind. That she could be lost in such a way.

During this time of the liturgical year, I imagine the Apostles in a similar position – their hopes and dreams vanquished by the cold reality of power demonstrated in human flesh and through mortality. I imagine their doubt and betrayed faith in the moments after catastrophe when we attempt to construct meaning from the void.

In the shorter version of the ending of the Gospel According to Mark, we are left with the image of Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome fleeing from the empty tomb – awash in terror from experiencing the presence of the Divine and amazed at the fulfillment of the promise revealed through the gospel message. They relate the Good News to Peter and the others and thus become the first preachers of Jesus as the Christ. The first true proclaimers of the Word.

And Jesus becomes the Christ and enacts salvation through his followers and those who find a reconciled hope in the Resurrection.

But how are we to find this salvation? Death arrives in silence and persists despite the promise and our hope. Sometimes, I feel the spirit of my mother coursing through me – guiding my steps and insisting on my faith as a lived ethical duty to others and as a calling that cannot be ignored. At other times, I can’t help but mourn her body as it decays in the dirt and mourn her memory, which grows faint with the passing years.

I study Christianity, but I do not understand it. And the proclamation of victory over death is more than a question of belief for me – and for my mother. Resurrection grounds my relation to humanity and insists on the centrality of memory, celebration, and community to the Christian faith.

Christ is risen in our shared commitment to living the story of the unseen. Christ is risen indeed in our love and the fact that, perhaps, the memory of Debra Pinkney now courses through you – and calls you to a faith which transcends death.

Foster J. Pinkney is a writer, student, and organizer from Columbus, Ohio. He is a recent graduate from Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York and started attending the University of Chicago Divinity School in September 2015, to study for a PhD in Religious Ethics.

]]>Disciples of Fear: Is It Easier to Believe in Crucifixions?http://newsacred.org/2016/03/disciples-of-fear-is-it-easier-to-believe-in-crucifixions/
Wed, 30 Mar 2016 12:30:39 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2942Dwight Lee Wolter - Post-Easter faith for Christians does not mean that we can put on rose-colored glasses because nothing bad will happen to you if last Sunday you put on an Easter bonnet and listened to an impassioned and upbeat sermon.]]>We currently live in a world where countless books have been written and read by countless believers about “declared dead on the operating table” or similar experiences with predictable tales of a white light at the end of a tunnel and angels telling the newly dead, “It is not your time yet… Go back! Go back!” But there are far fewer books by women standing at an empty tomb saying, “He’s back! He’s back!”

We currently live in a world where people find it far easier to believe in a crucifixion than in a resurrection. Crucifixions, many say, are a daily reality whereas resurrections are the stuff of fairy tales. Okay. Fair point. Don’t want to argue.

But be careful what you choose to… and refuse to… believe. People believe in many strange things, often without even knowing it. But believing in the wrong messenger with the wrong message may cast you into despair and, perhaps, much worse.

Many people, for example, place their faith in doubt. They become complacent and comfortable in suspicion, cynicism and disbelief. Being dismissive of people, places and things can offer a sense of solace and strength. But doubt can also muster its own army of disbelief that can mutiny against you.

Many people, similarly, are faithful to fear. They experience fear at a primal level. It is, after all, human instinct to turn in the direction of an explosion. Blood falls to your legs to enable you to run much faster than usual (fight or flight). Adrenalin quickens your pulse and causes the veins in your neck to bulge, carrying blood to your hyper-awakened brain.

No wonder so many people believe in fear and allow it to be their leader. Many people actually become devout Disciples of Fear, perhaps even without knowing it. But fear can blind you to faith, and ultimately make you feel vulnerable and helpless.

Don’t believe me? Using fear as a weapon, look what ISIS has been able to accomplish without owning a single airplane or setting foot on American soil. Look at the role that fear is playing in the presidential primary on both sides. You don’t need specific examples from me about fear being used as a weapon. Just turn on the TV, radio, or internet. Yes, fear is real. But be careful: Fear is a merciless task master.

How does post-Easter, resurrection life help us with this morass of fear?

In accepting crucifixion, Jesus was saying ~ to the Romans then and to us now ~ you can crucify my body, but you cannot crucify my soul. You can invade and occupy my country, but you cannot invade and occupy my mind or my spirit because my spirit belongs to God and my God-given spirit cannot be created, negated or destroyed by the likes of you or anyone else.

Post-Easter faith for Christians does not mean that we can put on rose-colored glasses because nothing bad will happen to you if last Sunday you put on an Easter bonnet and listened to an impassioned and upbeat sermon. Evil, tragedy, injustice and stupidity remain a presence in the world despite our faith. I know this from personal experience and I bet you do too.

Fear and doubt come and go ~ but it is hope that springs eternal. What our senses and experience has declared to be dead, buried, defeated and impossible can rise and live again. Unfortunately, every resurrection is preceded by a crucifixion. Bummer. But there is always reason for hope because God is here to guide us and to help us cope with whatever difficulties we may go through. It is our hope and faith, not our fear and doubt that resurrects and sustains us, time and time again. Christ is a real and present help in times of trouble therefore we need not succumb to the manipulative power of fear, doubt and despair. Faith is perfectly built to help us cope with crazy times like these. Stop leaping into the lap of fear and you will witness to despair being transformed into hope. Guess what? Love is stronger than hate. And faith is stronger than fear.

BREAKING NEWS: Moments ago, a stone was rolled away from the entrance to a cave of doubt within which that was once dead within was suddenly alive again. But, then again, that is not really “news” because I have seen many lives, many relationships, communities and countries crawl out of countless caves of doubt, despair, hate and fear. And they have been restored, renewed, transformed, resurrected, and given another chance to dream, to build, to share, to hope, to love and to grow into that which God intends. Imagine that!

This article originally appeared at Patheos.com and is reprinted with permission.

Dwight Lee Wolter is pastor of the Congregational Church of Patchogue on Long Island, New York. He is the author of several books and blogs at dwightleewolter.com.

]]>Grieving Good Fridayhttp://newsacred.org/2016/03/grieving-good-friday/
Fri, 25 Mar 2016 15:02:27 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2938Anne Dunlap - We sit at the foot of the cross. We sit at the entrance to the tomb. And we grieve.]]>Rev. Dr. Pat Youngdahl, a Presbyterian minister and a writer, once reflected on her discomfort that as Christians we celebrate one Holy Week during the year, “as if,” she says, “the holiest things that have ever happened in our faith tradition happened then.”[1] What happens to the rest of Jesus’s life, “the fifty-one weeks left over,” as she says. Is there not holiness in the rest of the story? The healings, the laughter, the community, the justice-making, the welcoming of women, the lifting up of children, the challenge to oppressive power, the puzzling parables, the breaking of bread – is there not holiness in every moment of Jesus’s life?

She has a point. There are some versions of Christianity that focus so entirely upon the death of Jesus – as if the only thing that mattered was that he died – that they forget that he was killed, executed by the imperial power, precisely because of the way he lived. Everything that Jesus did, everything that we remember about how he tried to follow God’s way and teach us to do the same, was holy. In that sense, every week in the Christian calendar is Holy Week…

…And yet. We would do well not to skip lightly over this week, and in particular this day. Yes, every other week is holy, but it is the particularity of Christian tradition to ask us to stop, and consider, and sit in the stark reality that is the pain and trauma of human existence.

That it not what we like to do in our culture. We’d much prefer to skip lightly over the pain and betrayal and reality of death and violence and head right to an Easter with the wrinkles smoothed away, the wounds covered up by smiley-faced Band-Aids.

But our liturgical year does not let us escape. We are compelled to sit here. At the foot of the cross. And stare death in the face.

It is all there in John’s story, just about every kind of human brokenness you can imagine, all leading to a horrifying, tragic end.

Betrayal.
Denial.Fear.

Bloodshed.
Religious leaders sold out to the state.
Interrogation.
Twisting the meaning of words.
An unfair trial.
An unfair judgement.
Beating.
Torture.
Abandonment.
Mocking.Fear.

Lies. And more lies.
Authority figures abusing their power.
The people with (seemingly?) little power.
Manipulation of people.
Manipulation of systems meant to protect the less powerful.
Sarcasm.
Name-calling.
Shame.
Idolatry.
Confusion.
Humiliation.Fear.

Physical pain.
Innocence condemned.
The loss of a child.
The loss of a friend.
Watching your loved one suffer.
Watching your loved one die.
Not knowing what happens next.
Grief.
Anger.Fear.

On this day, we remember the pain and violence that can be human living. We remember the pain and violence we bear in our own lives. And we remember our brother Jesus, his life, and particularly on this day, his death.

We sit at the foot of the cross. We sit at the entrance to the tomb. And we grieve.

And we may wonder, as the disciples did: Is this the end?

And we wait.

Rev. Anne Dunlap is an ordained United Church of Christ minister serving as a “street pastor” for racial justice and solidarity in the Denver, CO area. Rev. Dunlap is committed to the work of collective liberation, working in freedom movements with folks across race, gender, and class lines for more than 25 years, with a particular passion for solidarity with Black, immigrant, worker, and indigenous communities. Anne also serves as adjunct faculty at the Iliff School of Theology, and loves herbal practice, tending goats, and hanging out with friends and her beloved of over 20 years. .

]]>Good Friday Came Firsthttp://newsacred.org/2016/03/good-friday-came-first/
http://newsacred.org/2016/03/good-friday-came-first/#commentsWed, 23 Mar 2016 20:00:10 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2934Elsa Peters - Before Easter comes, I hope and I pray that you will find a little space to grieve.]]>Before the alleluias get dug up from the ground, before anyone can look for the living among the dead, before Sunday can come, there will be a Friday.

It is the order of things. It is the way that the calendar pages turn. Before there can be a Sunday to praise, there must be a Friday to mourn.

There are people who sit in our pews every Sunday who say they can’t watch the news anymore. It’s too terrible, they tell me. It’s just so awful that they can’t watch. Like the disciples in the Gospel of Luke, they stand at a distance from the bad news.

It is not their children that are dying. It is not their city that is flooding. They don’t need to watch. They can just turn off the television for there is no wall being built in their backyard. They can shelter themselves from all of those terrible things.

I can too.

I can close my browser. I don’t need to watch that video or read that article. I can turn away from all of the bad news but I cannot skip over the fact that Friday came first.

Before Sunday came, before hope was resurrected, there was a Friday when everything ended. All that could have been got tortured and killed on a cross.

And they stood watching at a distance. They couldn’t be close. It hurt too much. They had given their whole lives to this possibility that was tortured and killed on a cross. It was over. Everything was going to be different. Nothing would ever be the same.

It’s just not possible to leap into joy.

We need just a little time to mourn.

Because of that Friday we cannot simply tell each other to look on the bright side. We only add to the brutality if we deny the systems of injustice that are still at work in this world. We will only torture ourselves if we do not give ourselves a little space to admit that something is coming to an end.

Something is dying. It may be a child you know or one you saw on the news. It could be the church down the street or the one you’ve called home for more than forty years. Or it could be some hope for the future that will never come true.Don’t try to leap into joy. Give yourself some space to grieve what once was so that you can make room for what could be.

Before Easter comes, I hope and I pray that you will find a little space to grieve.

The Rev. Elsa A. Peters is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ who has served churches in New York City, Maine and Washington. She believes in the power of community, that poverty can end in our lifetime and that everyone needs a little more love. Follow along in her adventures in ministry at http://revelsaanderspeters.com. You can also find her on Facebook at /elsa.a.peters.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/03/good-friday-came-first/feed/3The Spiritual Practice of Shutting Uphttp://newsacred.org/2016/03/the-spiritual-practice-of-shutting-up/
http://newsacred.org/2016/03/the-spiritual-practice-of-shutting-up/#commentsThu, 17 Mar 2016 18:30:45 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2929Jeff Nelson - Many people have a certain idea of what prayer is. ]]>Many people have a certain idea of what prayer is.

Call and response. Prayers of unison. Joys and concerns. The Lord’s Prayer recited.

Words spoken aloud, usually to petition God for a certain sense of presence or activity on behalf of God’s people.

Maybe there are a few token beats of silence, but most faith communities this side of the Quakers speak much, ask for much, state much about what they believe in prayer.

We tell God what we hope for; we share with God our deepest longings for parts of the world, for loved ones, and for ourselves.

Fortunately, more and more praying people are discovering listening as the other important element of prayer.

We can’t always be doing all the talking. After all, even though the pinnacle of the campaign has long passed, some people still like to say that God is still speaking.

The writer of Ecclesiastes claimed there is a time to be silent and a time to speak. But when we bring our anxious selves with urgent needs to God, it can take quite a lot of effort to quiet down long enough to hear what God has to say.

Thomas Merton wrote of how easy it is to be distracted in prayer. We approach God in our spiritual hunger, clamoring to hear a Word, and yet our subconscious attempts to submerge us “under a tidal wave of wild and inane images.”

And yet it is unavoidable that this happens, and we are tempted to give into the distraction and abandon the exercise altogether. We may even be thankful for the distraction.

After all, what might we risk hearing from God if we really were quiet enough to listen?

This works not just with prayer but with people. Have you ever felt a need to stay involved in a conversation by clamoring to think of what to say after the other person is done speaking? In doing so, have you really been listening? What would happen if you really were listening instead? What part of their story are they sharing with you, and why? What could you be learning about the world from what they’re saying?

Our society seems to be short on listeners nowadays. Thanks to how much more interconnected we are through various forms of media, there are many more voices aching to have their stories heard.

Really, the voices were always there, but for many in recent years this is their first chance to share their experience. They are stories of indifference, exclusion, dismissal, abuse, rejection, and suspicion. They are stories that many still would rather talk over than hear; to overlay one’s own story in an attempt to disprove or downplay what is being shared.

Sometimes distractions work to our advantage, because they keep us safe. They keep us from hearing things that are unpleasant; that will upset the foundation of our worldview.

If I can’t hear it, then I can’t absorb it.

If I can’t absorb it, then I can’t consider its implications for what I knew before. If I can’t consider its implications, then I don’t need to do anything.

If I just talk long enough and loud enough, I’ll be safe. If I submerge myself under a tidal wave of wild and inane images, all shall be well.

And yet, what if we listened more intently? What if we practiced the spiritual discipline of being quiet long enough to hear the stories of people different from ourselves? What if we allowed the experience of another to take root within us and break through the hardened shell of what we think we know?

It may be that the person inviting us to listen to their story is the one through whom God will have something to say to us.

On Sunday mornings before the scripture reading, I invite the congregation to listen for the Word of the Lord. The same Word that speaks to us through the witness of our faith ancestors also speaks to us through the experiences of our fellow earthly pilgrims.

What might we risk hearing from God if we really were quiet enough to listen?

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture at http://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/03/the-spiritual-practice-of-shutting-up/feed/2Who Cares About the Religious Right Anymore?http://newsacred.org/2016/03/who-cares-about-the-religious-right-anymore/
http://newsacred.org/2016/03/who-cares-about-the-religious-right-anymore/#commentsThu, 17 Mar 2016 17:59:05 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2920Chase Peeples - We don’t need a “Religious Left” to face off against the Religious Right.]]>If the son of a famous preacher makes an inflammatory political declaration, does he really make a sound?

I asked myself this question when I read The New York Times’ profile of Franklin Graham and Jerry Falwell, Jr. Graham, the son of the much-heralded Billy Graham, is launching a tour to rally conservative Christians in an election year, all the while spewing anti-Muslim screeds whenever a microphone is nearby. Meanwhile Jerry Falwell, Jr., the son of the founder of the Moral Majority and Liberty University, has urged Liberty students to arm themselves with guns to defend themselves from Muslim terrorists. These two can still make headlines, but they fail to wield the influence of their fathers.

I came of age in the 1980s and remember vividly Reagan’s embrace of the senior Falwell’s Moral Majority. I can also remember how at the close of the decade Ralph Reed’s Christian Coalition had so-called “voter’s guides” in churches across the country. I grew up Southern Baptist and watched fundamentalists purge conservative people from the denomination because they weren’t conservative enough. Compared to those days, this next generation of leaders of the Religious Right seems laughable.

Don’t get me wrong, far-right Christians still wield considerable influence. One of my state’s legislators declared the Supreme Court had “created a third sex” by legalizing same sex marriage (whatever that means). I also encounter daily people with real spiritual wounds from the sexism, homophobia and transphobia of right-wing churches. I’m well aware right-wing Christianity is still out there.

I can’t help but feel, however, that the current right-wing religious outrage is more desperate than substantive. The Religious Right just doesn’t matter like it used to matter.

Once my own religious and political beliefs moved from conservative to progressive, I bemoaned the lack of a “Religious Left” to counter the Religious Right. I’ve written plenty of columns for church newsletters, blog posts and print publications responding to what I consider to be the misguided efforts of the Religious Right. Yet, I’ve harbored the suspicion for a while that such efforts might have been a waste of time.

In a culture where “none of the above” is the fastet growing response to the question of religious affiliation, the outrage of any church—right, left or center—is becoming less and less relevant. Not only do people care less about the Religious Right but they care less about anything at all resembling traditional religious identification. I realize now that the time is past—if it ever existed—for me as a Progressive Christian to waste my energy on the Religious Right.

The world is hurting now just as much as it ever was, and I turn my attention away from hurting people when I choose to live in reaction to the Religious Right. It’s past time for me and people like me to turn our attention back to where it should have been all along—prophetically demonstrating God’s radical love for all people.

We don’t need a “Religious Left” to face off against the Religious Right.

Instead we need Christians who believe living out the Gospel means working for peace and justice. We need Christians who ask “What Would Jesus Do?” and then answer by offering inclusive hospitality to all God’s children no matter who they are. We need Christians who will admit to not having all the answers and then enter into relationships with people of other religions or of no religion. We need Christians who believe their job is to love rather than control other people.

I have spent too much time saying, “I’m not that kind of Christian.” in reference to the Religious Right. It’s time for me to start saying, “I am this kind of Christian” in relation to the call of Jesus Christ who came to “to bring good news to the poor. . . to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Chase Peeples is pastor of Country Club Congregational United Church of Christ along with a bunch of other things including a father, a husband and a friend.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/03/who-cares-about-the-religious-right-anymore/feed/4The Silence of God’s Voicehttp://newsacred.org/2016/03/the-silence-of-gods-voice/
http://newsacred.org/2016/03/the-silence-of-gods-voice/#commentsTue, 15 Mar 2016 12:30:23 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2910Jim Eads - Demanding that God use a human voice is relegating God to life as the dummy on the ventriloquist's lap.]]>I taught a Sunday school class recently that included five elementary students and one high school freshman. The lesson was about Listening to God. Simple enough. Easily explainable. Or, so I thought.

On the surface, I figured teaching something so Duh! basic should be a lesson-plan cakewalk. How could my lesson not be rife with examples about how to tune in to God’s voice so clear that it’s like listening with a headset?

Then reality gobsmacked me. That’s right, gobsmacked.

I couldn’t think of one time when I knew—absolutely and for sure knew—that God had whispered in my ear, let alone spoke to me in a clear voice.

Yet, there had to be times when God had spoken to me. After all, my life and my faith oozed God experiences.

Surely, God had spoken to me many times. But I realized the closest I’ve come to hearing a voice from God was not really from God at all. It was when another proxy voice, a human’s words, had spoken to me in a so-called aha moment. A God-surrogate’s words had caused a stirring within me.

Still, time after time throughout my life, hadn’t I recognized the unmistakable still small voice of God?

I’m convinced I couldn’t have gotten from then to now without God’s help and intervention.

For instance, I remembered the perfect timing of my not stepping out from in front of a bus into moving traffic. I didn’t hear God say, Wait. But I do believe God stopped me and saved my life.

I also know I landed in retirement because of inner directing impulses, not because God whispered, Now’s the time. Go for it. No voice. A feeling at best. But the right decision nevertheless.

I know God has influenced me. But had I actually heard the voice of God?

No.

So, what could I tell my students on Sunday morning about listening for God’s voice if I had never actually heard it myself?

For me, hearing God had been no Damascus prompt so clear that I, like Paul, knew exactly what to do. Nor was it so distinct that, like Samuel who had replied, Yes, Lord, I’m here, I was certain I had heard from God.

As I battled toe to toe with myself about whether or not I had ever actually heard God speaking to me, I realized that I don’t have to hear God to hear from God. Because I hear no audible voice doesn’t mean God hasn’t communicated with me.

No, I have had to settle for feelings, impulses, inklings. Even so, they are no less God’s voice than the one either Paul or Samuel heard.

God speaking to us today may often be next to impossible to tune in to, as indistinct as the hum of a refrigerator in a crowded kitchen. But it is no less real.

Demanding that God use a human voice is relegating God to life as the dummy on the ventriloquist’s lap. It’s way too prosaic, too limiting to define God by our biological standards.

That’s basically what I told my Sunday school class. I told them not to expect to hear from God as a human voice. Just be ready to feel nudges from the Holy Spirit—another term that falls short of describing how God speaks to us but perhaps works better than the decibel analogy.

I told the kids to pray and expect answers and to give thanks because God exists and does, somehow, give us guidance.

That’s as close as I came to telling my students how to listen for God.

I think it’s as close as any of us can ever come.

After teaching and working as an insurance adjuster and representative, Jim is now retired. I enjoy walking with my dog; sitting on the porch with my wife; visiting our two daughters, son-in-law and grandson; writing; and reading. Jim has self-published two middle-grade fiction books.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/03/the-silence-of-gods-voice/feed/2The Wrong Em-PHA-sishttp://newsacred.org/2016/03/the-wrong-em-pha-sis/
Thu, 10 Mar 2016 13:30:20 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2906Partick Duggan - People write often about all of the ways that the Mainline church is in trouble. However, there is an alternative narrative. ]]>You can’t see the forest for the trees. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. And my favorite: Why worry about a speck in your friend’s eye when you have a log in your own?

These familiar, bizarre contrasts are about the trap of fixating on one thing when there are much bigger things to worry about. Sort of like the way we think about fixing whatever is wrong with the church….

People write often about all of the ways that the Mainline church is in trouble. However, there is an alternative narrative.

In spite of the many leaders who seem to be paralyzed with fear, there is a Spirit, an energy in our midst, that directs a few courageous souls to forward-moving action.

In his recent book Beyond Resistance: The Institutional Church Meets the Postmodern World, UCC General Minister and President John Dorhauer calls these inspired leaders to rise up:

Who among us has the vision to see beyond the time of grief, beyond the horizons of pain to what lies on the other side? This is about perceiving.

Here are some real world examples of the deception of skewed perception:

We don’t have enough people in Wednesday night Bible study. Let’s add something to Wednesday night to make more people come out.

Our giving and fundraising do not meet church expenses. Let’s cut ministry activities and spend some of our endowment.

These true-to-life examples represent genuine, troubling concerns of local church life. The challenges are real, but they are symptoms of the malaise. We can relieve symptoms but the larger issues elude simple solutions.

Maybe we can get three, four or 10 more people to come to church on Wednesday night, but does that address the greater challenge of faith formation in a post-church, post-religion, over-scheduled, electronic media-focused society?

Cutting ministry activities and using long-term savings may be the only available options for a church to meet current expenses. But how does that address the larger issue of discerning God’s call to mission and ministry in a changing neighborhood, or grappling with the imminent possibility that a particular congregation may be approaching the end of its useful service to God and community?

Shouldn’t the church be accountable to manage its finances to advance mission close to the end of its life cycle, or even when the church is closing and it assets are sold, transferred or otherwise disposed of?

As people of God we must see with Holy Spirit inspired vision. It is about seeing every mountain and molehill; perceiving both the forest and every tree. It is about developing strategies to remove specks, logs, grains of sand, or even boulders from every eye. Better still, it is about creating an atmosphere in which every eye may see in ultra-high definition. In these painful and exciting times let us hear God’s words spoken to the ancient prophet:

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?

The Reverend Doctor Patrick Garnet Duggan is a native New Yorker, the son of a Jamaican cabinet maker and a New York attorney. He serves as Senior Pastor of the Congregational Church of South Hempstead UCC and Executive Director of the UCC Church Building and Loan Fund. He loves writing, preaching, teaching, helping church leaders with difficult building projects, and talking about how the church can use its resources to change the world. Twitter: @revduggan1

]]>Taking Pleasure in Lent: A Feminist Experimenthttp://newsacred.org/2016/03/taking-pleasure-in-lent-a-feminist-experiment/
Tue, 08 Mar 2016 13:30:37 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2900Leah Lyman Waldron - Lent as pleasure: it may not be terribly orthodox, but maybe that's why it's powerful.]]>Lent is typically seen as a time for sacrifice, restraint—even deprivation, if you’re giving up something you normally rely on to get you through the day (hello coffee drinkers!).

Sacrificing earthly comforts in order to grow closer to God is an idea as old as religion. But as I was struggling with how to stick to my Lenten discipline this year—I had determined to spend time sitting in silence with God each morning before my family woke up and set off the avalanche of demands on my time—I wondered if there might be another way.

Women and girls are shaped by male expectations and views from a very early age. This podcast talks about how achievement and self-objectification are two ways women respond to these expectations; sacrifice is another.

The cultural norm that women should make themselves, their passions, and their emotions smaller to accommodate others is particularly insidious because it enshrines women’s worth in how much they bleed themselves dry. (Women who mother get an added dose of this, as do people of color, queer people, trans* folks, and anyone else whose needs or whose very existence threaten to upset the power structure.)

Lots of religious communities reinforce this idea.

On the conservative end of the spectrum: women shouldn’t be ordained; women should only teach children; women shouldn’t sing or read scripture in front of men.

On the more progressive side it’s there too—not as explicit prohibition but as implicit reality. Women lead significantly fewer big churches and fewer churches, period; expressions of emotion in mainline settings (which would benefit all genders) are often apologized for or frowned upon; women pastors receive “feedback” about their appearance or leadership style in ways that suggest they need to tone themselves down.

Women who want to be their full selves in our faith communities often get the message: if you want to grow closer to (our version of) God, give something up.

So as I was struggling to sacrifice my sleep in order to connect with God, I wondered if another idea from the aforementioned podcast might help me out.

What if I swapped the paradigm of Lenten sacrifice (“I have to”) for one of Lenten pleasure (“I get to!”)? What if I started looking forward to my time with God, saw it as a moment to care for myself and my spiritual well-being, treated it as something to savor and enjoy?

Look, even as I write that, I hear your pushback (because it’s in my head, too): The whole point of Lent is to remember Jesus’ sacrifice in the desert, his deprivation and suffering as a precursor to his death on the cross! We’re supposed to sacrifice!

To you (and to the voice in my head), I respond with some questions to help us imagine differently:

What’s the ultimate point of Lent—what’s the aim of the fast? If it’s to grow closer to God by changing the way we live for 40 days, maybe there’s more than one way to do that.

What if Jesus had been a woman? Would she have been free to leave behind family obligations and take up asceticism for several weeks? If not, how else might she have found the clarity of call and strength of purpose Jesus gained in the wilderness?

Are we uncomfortable with thinking about “God” and “pleasure” at the same time? (I know I am, a little bit!) Can that change if we image God as feminine instead of masculine?

If fasting separates us from the distraction of appetite-placating routines, helping us to become fully alive to the sustenance of the Creator, how might sharing a moment of profound pleasure with God do the same? In other words, can pleasure truly savored be just as powerful as pleasure renounced?

I don’t know what your Lenten commitment looks like or how you might find ways to take pleasure in the Divine this Lent. Maybe you’ll commit to savoring the scintillating flavors and textures of every single meal you eat, or glorying in a daily, mindful walk in creation, or (heavens!) engaging in fully present, sensuous love-making, or saying “no” to the next item on the to-do list in order to say “yes” to some delicious, soul-nurturing time with your Creator.

But I can tell you that as a sleep-deprived woman who already gives to her child, spouse, work, and congregation, reframing Lent as my time to takepleasure in God has helped me embrace my commitment, not slack off.

Lent as pleasure: it may not be terribly orthodox, but maybe that’s why it’s powerful.

Rev. Leah Lyman Waldron is a thrift-vangelist, writer, preacher, preacher’s wife, mama, and Midwesterner transplanted to the South. She has a not-so-secret passion for pop music and loves being the lone millenial in her baby boomer-filled yoga class. Born & raised UCC, she’s bi-vocational, preaching at Decatur UCC in Atlanta every other Sunday while doing admin work at a big Presbyterian church during the week. She blogs at http://thriftshopchic.com.

]]>Welcoming Refugees of Faithhttp://newsacred.org/2016/03/welcoming-refugees-of-faith/
http://newsacred.org/2016/03/welcoming-refugees-of-faith/#commentsThu, 03 Mar 2016 13:30:28 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2892Foster J. Pinkney - Our understanding of welcome must encompass the pain and fear of traumatic Christianity.]]>I walked past St. John’s UCC in Columbus, Ohio for months before venturing inside. The church was located behind my apartment building and I couldn’t get to the bus stop without passing its massive wooden doors everyday. There was a large purple banner on the side of St. John’s promising that this was a place of radical inclusion where one could search for God in an atmosphere of safety and welcome.

During my first worship experience, I was gripped by anxiety and fear. I truly believed that I would be struck down in the pew by a vengeful God who condemned inclusion. I was raised to believe that every institution outside of the Kingdom Hall was guided by Satan’s hand. And that my eternal soul was at stake with every encounter with the world.

“Keep on the watch, therefore, because you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. (Matthew 24:42, NWT). Constant vigilance was required to protect the heart from worldly influence and the coercive nature of ‘man’s philosophy.’ At any moment your life could become forfeit.

I know there are others with experiences similar to mine – who enter the United Church of Christ fleeing from the psycho-social torture of a theology that prayed for genocide and unrelenting punishment. Others whose faith was distorted by belief in a hateful deity.

These people are not traditional “nones” – people raised without religious affiliation or who simply assume that institutional religion is inherently corrupt and hypocritical. Instead they are refugees from a vengeful God, survivors of religious abuse.

Our understanding of welcome must encompass the pain and fear of traumatic Christianity.

We must acknowledge the terror of theologies which instituted slavery and encouraged spousal abuse. Some have experienced a Christianity that protected child abusers and preached that rape was the fault of the survivor and not the attacker. Some of our brothers and sisters in faith have been named abominations simply through the expressions of their love. That kind of hurt can’t be solved by a gentle smile and a hearty handshake.

Our God, and hence our theologies, must be large enough to encounter historical pains and living traumas. We not only welcome, we affirm, who the refugee is and where they are in relation to their faith. We welcome their brokenness and their tears. We protect them as they discover what radical inclusion can mean in the light of Jesus as the Christ.

With every act of communion, we signify that our hope for salvation is continually resurrected in the act of worship. Jesus as the Christ, and the community of his followers, assures that we are never alone in our suffering and that we always have a place at the table of heaven.

The United Church of Christ is the first place that I heard a sermon preached on the concept of grace. I was astounded that a God could exist who accepted me because I was loved as a created being. What kind of God is this? And who are these people that worship such a God?

Foster J. Pinkney is a writer, student, and organizer from Columbus, Ohio. He is a recent graduate from Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York and started attending the University of Chicago Divinity School in September 2015, to study for a PhD in Religious Ethics.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/03/welcoming-refugees-of-faith/feed/6Stop Dismissing the “Spiritual But Not Religious”http://newsacred.org/2016/03/stop-dismissing-the-spiritual-but-not-religious/
http://newsacred.org/2016/03/stop-dismissing-the-spiritual-but-not-religious/#commentsTue, 01 Mar 2016 13:30:27 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2876Jeff Nelson - “Spiritual, but not religious.”]]>“Spiritual, but not religious.”

The term has been around for a few years now. In fact, it’s risen to such prominence and is used by so many people that it now enjoys its own checkbox on religious identity surveys.

The term is relatively simple. Many people, particularly in younger generations, don’t see the point in identifying with institutional religion, have no desire to attend or join any religious center, want no part of any particular tradition with all its obligations, limitations, and historical baggage.

The “spiritual but not religious” may believe in or wish to pursue a connection with a transcendent of some kind, but they’d rather do it in their own way through any number of activities or self-directed study.

Sure, there might be some that just claim the label to avoid a conversation, but there’s no easy way to sort one person from another without asking.

A lot of more formal religious institutions seem to have a problem with the “spiritual but not religious.” If the reactions that I’ve seen from prominent authors, speakers, and leaders are any indication, many with a dedicated denominational affiliation tend to be dismissive of this identity group.

Many of us have chosen to believe that this group is lazy. Entitled. Self-centered. Vapid. Unoriginal. Boring. Insert your own favorite pejorative term.

And then we turn around and wonder why they don’t want any part of our churches.

Don’t kid yourselves, fellow mainliners. If you go into this new religious landscape convinced that an increasingly substantial number of your fellow seekers are ridiculous for claiming the identity that they do, then you have no right to write all your thinkpieces explaining why we’re facing shrinking attendance and budget numbers thanks to this group.

Part of the problem is you’ve decided to disengage from a large group of people who don’t see why you’re worth the hassle. And turning up your nose at them isn’t helping. Surprising, right?

Here’s the thing about the “spiritual but not religious.” There may be a category for them, but there’s no way to really categorize them. One finds God in a daily yoga practice. The next feels most connected to the divine through music. The next feels most spiritual while with friends at the pub.

But why? And how? And what do they mean by “God” or “divine” or “spiritual,” anyway?

You won’t know until you talk to them. You won’t know until you ask and then listen—I mean really listen—to their stories..

We as a denomination haven’t yet figured out how to listen to the “spiritual but not religious.”

We’re too busy griping about them to do that. It’s past time we change in order to really understand who they are and how best to engage them.

Until then, spare me your thinkpieces.

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture at http://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/03/stop-dismissing-the-spiritual-but-not-religious/feed/7What Happens in Church Stays in Churchhttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/what-happens-in-church-stays-in-church/
Tue, 23 Feb 2016 13:30:58 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2872Elsa Peters - You can't go to Las Vegas without someone making this joke.]]>You can’t go to Las Vegas without someone making this joke. I don’t care if you’re going on a zen retreat or a business conference, someone is gonna find out your travel plans and with a wink and a nudge say, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

In the same way, after you get home and you happen to mention that you were just in Vegas, someone inevitably gives that same wink and a nudge and says, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, eh?”

I’m waiting for the day when I mention I was in church to someone I’ve just bumped into at the grocery store or at the bar or wherever and they respond with the same wink and a nudge, “What happens in church stays in church, eh?”

Before you freak out, that particular advertising campaign began when Vegas was trying to market a unique experience where you could eat things you’d never get to eat and see things you wouldn’t normally see. You could be someone that the rest of the world won’t let you be. I don’t want that place to be off in the desert in the middle of America. I want it to be on every street corner where a steeple reaches toward the sky.

I began ministry with my whole head and my heart believing that this is what it is all about. The bold words from the prophet Isaiah on Jesus’s lips in Luke 4:14-21 were words that I passionately typed into my ordination paper. YES! The Spirit of the Lord is upon all of us!

But as I tried to write my sermon a few weeks ago about Jesus unrolling that scroll and proclaiming this truth, I couldn’t quite shake this feeling that nothing we do in church matters. It’s not Vegas, it’s just church. Just another meeting or another blessing. Ho hum.

I know it’s not just me. It’s something I have heard from pastors and members—especially those who are not at those big churches, or what we might call “tall steeples,” with their…

Well, I admit that I’m not exactly sure where the envy lies. It’s not the budget constraints or people power that leave me feeling like we’re not bringing good news to the poor or proclaiming release to the captives.

It doesn’t seem that we need a whole lot of people or money to that. We just need passion and vision and hope.

This is what was bugging me when I was trying to write my sermon. Not that we don’t have passion or vision or hope, but that we have somehow convinced ourselves that what happens in church should really stay in church. We don’t talk about it. It’s as if there is no good news to share when the people of God get together for some holy mischief. But, I refuse to believe it.

It’s a place where EVERYTHING happens. Babies are born and blessed. Couples marry. Young people see visions and the old dream dreams, and it happens every single week.

Every single time the body of Christ gets together, amazing stuff happens, but we don’t see it enough. We complain about how bad the news is.

We gripe about the media. But, how often are we sharing what happened in church?

It’s not Vegas. It’s better.

I need a whole bunch of people crazy enough to proclaim this faith with me to remind me that the Spirit of the Lord really is upon me as much as it is on them.

In fact, it’s in all of us and we’ve got work to do. That’s why we gather for worship and why we sit through committee meetings. That’s why we offer blessings on bicycles and puppies and screaming babies. It’s why we remind each other that we’re in this together and dare to dream that the year of the Lord’s favor is right now.

Tweet it. Talk about it. Don’t let it hide behind the locked doors of the church. Get that good news out right now!

The Rev. Elsa A. Peters is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ who has served churches in New York City, Maine and Washington. She believes in the power of community, that poverty can end in our lifetime and that everyone needs a little more love. Follow along in her adventures in ministry at http://revelsaanderspeters.com. You can also find her on Facebook at /elsa.a.peters.

]]>Scalia, The Bible & The Constitution: Only One of Them Is Deadhttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/scalia-the-bible-the-constitution-only-one-of-them-is-dead/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/scalia-the-bible-the-constitution-only-one-of-them-is-dead/#commentsFri, 19 Feb 2016 16:43:45 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2884Dwight Lee Wolter - Recently departed Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia believed, “The only good Constitution is a dead Constitution.” ]]>Recently departed Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia believed, “The only good Constitution is a dead Constitution.” For Scalia, the Constitution is static and should only be changed through the Constitutional amendment process. His theory is called “originalism” ~ a belief that the Constitution should be interpreted solely through the lens of what was written when it was written. Scalia’s theory of originalism has implications for you, me and modern society.

One example is that since abortion and gay marriage rights were not present at the time of the writing of the Constitution ~ arguments to protect them cannot be used to expand the meaning of the Constitution to address modern realities. Originalism never quite found footing with other Justices. Scalia was not a consensus builder and often wrote scathing dissents. Not surprisingly, his fundamentalist position on the Constitution won him friends, foes, admirers, detractors and devotees.

The Bible seems to “enjoy” a similar role in society as does the Constitution: Some believe it is literally true, every word of it, and it is a static document. Such persons might feel that the only good Bible is a “dead” Bible that cannot be “amended”. Others believe that while the Bible is true, it is not necessarily factual. Still others believe that the Bible is a historical document and, like any historical document, it was written with the bias of the time and circumstance in which the writers wrote.

A modern-day, religious situation with political implications that could be informed by Scalia and the debate over the Constitution is this: I am ordained in the United Church of Christ (UCC). A slogan of the UCC is, “Never place a period where God has placed a comma.” That slogan reflects another popular UCC slogan that, “God is Still Speaking.” These slogans point to the Bible as a living document that is best if interpreted to include what it might say about such modern issues as abortion and gay marriage rights.

But some ~ both within and outside the UCC ~ put forth an adaptation of the UCC slogan. They say we should, “Never place a comma where God has placed a period.” The implications of this reverse slogan are apparent. Not everything is up-for-grabs.

Like him or not, Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia has done us a huge favor. He has essentially forced Americans to sharpen our pencils and press them against the Constitution and the Bible. No matter where we stand, as individuals or institutions, concerning the separation of church and state; we need to pay attention to arguments about the Constitution and the Bible being interpreted solely in light of what they meant at the time when they were written. We would benefit from knowing our personal and collective core values that are not subject to amendment. We need to consider whether the interpretations of some persons matter more than others. And then we may come to realize that such seemingly obscure discussions as to whether the Constitution and the Bible still living or dead will have profound consequences for ourselves, our families and our institutions of faith.

This article originally appeared at Patheos.com and is reprinted with permission.

Dwight Lee Wolter is pastor of the Congregational Church of Patchogue on Long Island, New York. He is the author of several books and blogs at dwightleewolter.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/scalia-the-bible-the-constitution-only-one-of-them-is-dead/feed/3Good News and Bad Faithhttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/good-news-and-bad-faith/
Thu, 18 Feb 2016 13:30:19 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2868Tony Robinson - “Up From Poverty” is the headline on the cover of the weekly Christian Science Monitor newsmagazine for February 8.]]>“Up From Poverty” is the headline on the cover of the weekly Christian Science Monitor newsmagazine for February 8. In smaller print, “Almost unnoticed the world has made more progress on reducing poverty, increasing incomes, and improving health at any time in history.”

One of things I like about the Monitor is, without being sentimental, it is committed to covering good news. I wonder how the American mood might change if more media had this philosophy?

As it is, we seem to have morphed from, “If it bleeds, it leads,” to “If it terrifies, trumphet it — over and over and over.” This is not to suggest that real problems should be ignored. But I wonder if our enthrallment, one might say, with horror, disaster, and depravity don’t have something—a lot really—to do with the extraordinary levels of anger and anxiety that fuel our politics.

Back to “Up From Poverty,” which is written by Steven Radelet of Georgetown University and the Brookings Institution. “Global poverty has fallen faster during the past 20 years than at any time in history. Around the world hunger, child death, and disease rates have all plummeted. More girls are getting into school. In fact, never before have so many people, in so many poor countries, made so much progress in reducing poverty, increasing incomes, improving health, reducing conflict and war, and spreading democracy.”

Quite a statement! Quite an accomplishment! Quite some good news!

But you’d never suspect any of this from the daily barrage of war, terror, epidemic, economic chaos, and environmental apocalypse.

Radelet expands and documents his thesis before indicating three big picture reasons for the changes that began in the 1990’s. First came the end of the Cold War and the pattern of both the U.S. and U.S.S.R. propping up some really nasty dictators and crooks. Second, globalization and international access to new technology have strengthened economies. The third factor Radelet cites is, “Strong leadership and courageous action by the people in those countries themselves.” Only after noting these three factors does Radelet credit international aid with some contribution.

Good news indeed! Do we want to hear it? Or does good news mess with an almost manichean commitment to the power and pervasiveness of decline and disaster that we, in what I would call “bad faith,” cling to? After all, if everything is decline and disaster, nothing much can be expected of us, can it?

]]>A Progressive Faith Is Not All About Issueshttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/a-progressive-faith-is-not-all-about-issues/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/a-progressive-faith-is-not-all-about-issues/#commentsWed, 17 Feb 2016 17:08:27 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2880Elsa Peters - Before the Democrats in New Hampshire voted, the candidates argued about who was the most progressive.]]>Before the Democrats in New Hampshire voted, the candidates argued about who was the most progressive. Bernie Sanders reminded his opponent that the root of the word is progress and Hillary Clinton wondered aloud if there are any real progressives left.

No politico lives up to the ideal. Everyone has some fault, including these two candidates who argued for 15 minutes in a public debate about their own stance on so-called progressive values.

I must admit that I’m really tired of this fight.

Watching these two presidential hopefuls duke it out on the national stage, I felt the battle scars of so many years trying to push forward on issues within both national and church politics. The United Church of Christ is a so-called progressive church, so most of the churches I have served have had to wrestle with that fact.

Some of the members of the churches I have served have been so proud when the national office took a stance on health care, marriage equality, immigration or climate change. Others were horrified and left. They refused to take part in such a progressive church while the other side was frustrated that the denomination wouldn’t take more of a stance.

Sound familiar?

One candidate mentioned in the debate that they want to “stick to the issues,” and maybe that’s the only way forward. But I wonder what it means to be progressive right now. Is it different when a politician makes this claim from the podium than it is when a pastor proclaims it from the pulpit? Are we talking about the same thing? Are we defining this term in the same way?

I’m no longer sure. Pastoring churches all over the country with people politically and theologically all over the map, I am not sure that I can agree with the phrase “sticking to the issues.” I am not sure that it’s about the issues. Maybe it’s true for presidential hopefuls.

Maybe progressive politics really is all about the issues, but I’m not sure that a progressive faith can be so narrowly defined by a checklist of causes.

Progressive faith is all about change. It’s about how we welcome new ideas and new possibilities, whether those are thoughts about who Jesus Christ is or what the best dish is to bring to a potluck. It’s how we change and how we welcome that change.

Progressive faith is the church that isn’t afraid to welcome the Muslim on Sunday morning. It’s the church that continues to talk about racism so much that its elders encourage members and friends to give up racism for Lent. Progressive faith is the church that is constantly being revitalized, not because membership is down, but because they are curious and they choose to practice curiosity together. It’s the church that realizes that this isn’t the way we’ve always done things but we’re open to what God might be doing now. We’re willing to try something new. We’ll welcome this change and see what God will reveal as we take this risk together. Progressive faith doesn’t get bogged down in issues but welcomes the opportunity to learn and grow with God.

Progressive faith is not about issues.

Progressive politics can fight over those.

The Rev. Elsa A. Peters is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ who has served churches in New York City, Maine and Washington. She believes in the power of community, that poverty can end in our lifetime and that everyone needs a little more love. Follow along in her adventures in ministry at http://revelsaanderspeters.com. You can also find her on Facebook at /elsa.a.peters.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/a-progressive-faith-is-not-all-about-issues/feed/3Five Lessons from a Crappy Dayhttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/five-lessons-from-a-crappy-day/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/five-lessons-from-a-crappy-day/#commentsTue, 16 Feb 2016 13:30:18 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2855Timothy Tutt - On Tuesday a co-worker had a heart attack.]]>On Tuesday a co-worker had a heart attack.

On Wednesday my mother, who lives halfway across the country, fell while leaving a funeral and hit her head. The ambulance ride and the staple in her skull that followed are part of her learning to live with Parkinson’s disease.

On Thursday my father-in-law, who lives fifteen hundred miles away, was diagnosed with skin cancer. He begins radiation next week. That will complicate things as he is caring for my mother-in law, who recently had a heart attack and is dealing with side effects.

On Friday my sister-in-law sent me a Facebook message that my cousin, who is my age and who has cancer, has been placed in hospice care and has been given about six months to live.

Later that day I got a text that a former colleague, not yet thirty, was told his rare form of cancer has reappeared.

A few minutes after that my sister texted to say that my dad had gone to the Emergency Room while on a trip.

All of this news came as a snowstorm paralyzed our city. At the same time, I was working with a family to prepare for a funeral on Saturday.

While absorbing all of that information, I overlooked a meeting with some friends. In looking at my calendar to reschedule that gathering, I saw that I had promised my spouse to take our car in for a vehicle emissions test. Agh! Too much.

I texted my spouse to say I wasn’t going to the emissions testing center. I was tired, grumpy, worried about my friends and family members, sick of shoveling snow, and just ticked off at the universe. So I took a nap.

It was a crappy day.

I’m a pretty happy person. I’ve learned to cope fairly well with difficult news that is part of my pastoral work. I also recognize that my friends and family members have good health care insurance and aren’t having to walk as refugees from Syria to Germany. I believe that the moral arc of the universe bends toward justice. I believe that God is working things out for good.

Still, it was a crappy day.

When I woke up from my nap, I made a list of five things I learned from that crappy day. Here they are:

Sometimes pastors have crappy days. Pastors may preach good news on Sundays and church members may want to believe that ministers’ lives are all rainbows, unicorns, pleasant family meals, and happy talks with Jesus.Not so. Sometimes pastors are glum, angry, and tired. If you are a church member and reading this, remember that. And be kind. If your pastor seems distracted, doesn’t reply to your email, or is riddled with doubt, there are often good reasons for that.

Sometimes church members have crappy days. Being a Christian does not make you perfect. (Neither does being a Muslim or a Jew or Buddhist or an atheist or a “none.”) Pastors, if you are reading this, remember that. And be gracious. If a church member points out a typo in the bulletin or forgets to turn in her pledge card or needs to just sit in your office and cry, there are all kinds of reasons for that.

Prayer won’t fix these situations. I gave up on the God-as-Mechanic-In-Sky idea a long time ago. God is not waiting on me to say, “O, Magical Repair Dude, please heal my mom and my friend and my colleague. And, while you’re at it, please make the line at the emissions place short.” If God needs me to point out the worries of the world, then She hasn’t been paying attention. Still, I pray, because…

Prayer changes me. When I pray for others, I find myself thinking about myself: I should mail a card, make a phone call, bake a casserole, visit the sick, tend to my own health better, slow down some, be kinder, pray more, or even take more naps. Which brings me to the fifth thing I learned from a crappy day…

Naps are good.

Timothy Tutt is a wanderer, wonderer, husband, father, laugher, liberal, Texan-by-birth, Washingtonian-by-choice (yep, DC). He is the senior minister at Westmoreland Congregational United Church of Christ in Bethesda. Take a look at his blog ZenTexas.blogspot.com

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/five-lessons-from-a-crappy-day/feed/8To Muck We Shall Returnhttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/to-muck-we-shall-return/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/to-muck-we-shall-return/#commentsThu, 11 Feb 2016 18:30:26 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2860Anne Dunlap - I’m shoveling out a goat barn. I’m pitchfork-shoveling out a goat barn and thinking about ashes, and earth, and muck, and mud.]]>As a community minister, part of the rhythm of my weeks is working at my friend’s goat farm on Wednesdays. These are my reflections as I worked on Ash Wednesday this week.

I’m shoveling out a goat barn. I’m pitchfork-shoveling out a goat barn and thinking about ashes, and earth, and muck, and mud. I’m thinking about the traditional words of Ash Wednesday, “remember you are ashes, and to ashes you shall return.”

Mostly I’m thinking about muck. With the big snows we’ve had lately, the muck is even muckier than usual. It never ends, you know. The muck.

We come from this, too, don’t we? I’m shoveling and thinking about how we come from this stuff that is caked on my knees from holding yearling kids as we adjusted their collars. We come from this stuff, too.

And I don’t really mean that we’re muck because we’re sinners. Just that we’re elemental. We’re made of the stuff of the earth. Like this muck is the stuff of the earth.

And I’m shoveling and I stretch and the spring-hinting wind cools off my February sweat and yes, we are this too. We are made of the stuff of the earth.

Air, this wind, this labored pitchfork breath, these snuffle-kisses and welcoming bleats from the goats.

Fire, these aching muscles, this anointing of goat tails and rooster combs with healing salve, this sky ablaze as the sun sets over the mountains.

Water, these slick snow-muddy rivulets running downhill, these geese Fred and George splashing with delight, these water buckets filling and spilling so no one thirsts.

Earth, this grounded animal love, these mountains, these deer leaping into the pasture, and yes, this unending muck.

We are elemental. We are made from all this. Air, Fire, Water, Earth. The stuff of the earth, of creation. Sacred.

We are the stuff of the earth. Earthy, muddy, breathy bodies that stretch and love and creak and sing…and that have limits. Our bodies break. Our hearts break. As I take a moment to rest I think about our fleshy bodies and their limits. We are not robots or machines whose only purpose is to produceproduceproduce. We are fleshy, tender beings here to love, here to be in awe, here to shovel out a goat’s barn so they have a clean place to sleep.

The goats and chickens and geese are in bed, and I’m sore. I drive down the mountain back into town. I’m thinking about muck and about ashes on my forehead. I need those ashes on my forehead today, marking me, reminding me, that I am elemental. I am a tender, fleshy, elemental human being. Sacred.

I pull into the parking lot of my partner’s church and text her. I smell strongly of barnyard, so she comes outside, and under the light of the waxing crescent moon, she offers me the elements, bread and juice, and then marks my forehead with ashes.

She uses the traditional words. In my elemental body, though, I hear, “Remember you are muck, and to muck you shall return.”

Rev. Anne Dunlap is an ordained United Church of Christ minister serving as a “street pastor” for racial justice and solidarity in the Denver, CO area. Rev. Dunlap is committed to the work of collective liberation, working in freedom movements with folks across race, gender, and class lines for more than 25 years, with a particular passion for solidarity with Black, immigrant, worker, and indigenous communities. Anne also serves as adjunct faculty at the Iliff School of Theology, and loves herbal practice, tending goats, and hanging out with friends and her beloved of over 20 years.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/to-muck-we-shall-return/feed/1Worshipping Solo: Including the Unmarried in Our Pewshttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/worshipping-solo-including-the-unmarried-in-our-pews/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/worshipping-solo-including-the-unmarried-in-our-pews/#commentsThu, 11 Feb 2016 13:30:00 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2846Michelle Torigian - A new meme was posted on the UCC's Facebook page recently.]]>A new meme was posted on the UCC’s Facebook page recently. The image was beautiful—two brides on their wedding day. The photo itself reminded me of my pride in our denomination that supports the right of two people of any sexual orientation or gender identity to marry one another.

My eyes then glanced at the words on the meme. The caption read “Unbiased Community of Couples.”

Wait… I’m a single person in the church. Was this meme trying to say that our churches are for couples only?

As someone who didn’t find a healthy relationship before the age of 40, I often sat alone in pews, was the single person at fellowship events and felt awkward when a pastor would speak of marriage as the ideal state. I remember the discomfort of knowing that I was a single girl in a coupled world. And I recall that I was one of the only never-married people in my church.

While I was just fine with being single much of the time, there were instances when the church I was attending would hold events that seemed very exclusive to anyone not in a couple. The place in my heart yearning for a healthy relationship felt more discouraged. Does the church think something’s wrong with me because I’m not in a couple? God, why can’t the church accept me for who I am today?

Many of our sisters and brothers in Christ didn’t get married at 22 or 25 and are still looking for the right partner at 35 or 50. Others experienced a broken marriage and have been ostracized by their congregations for getting divorced. Widowed persons of all ages look for churches to call home after their spouse or long-time partner dies. And while the church often doesn’t like to acknowledge the existence of co-habiting couples, there are a number of them in our pews and on our membership rolls.

Some of our non-married friends are content being by themselves while others find it painful to be alone day after day.

I’ve heard that churches believe that young adults will come back when they’ve found a spouse and have children. But with the rising age of first marriages, we are missing out on including our unmarried friends in church life.

He surrounded himself with people of a variety of marital statuses. His marital status didn’t define him or hold his ministry back, and God called him to be the Christ just as he was. Would our very single savior, Jesus the Christ, have felt welcome at our church’s “couples only” or “families only” events?

It’s time to start the conversation on what it means to be a non-married progressive Christian and how to be inclusive to those who are connected with our churches. What does it mean to sit alone in the pews or a single person in a coupled society? How does it feel when churches hold “couples only” or “families only” events? And how can couples and families be more inclusive of those worshipping solo in our pews?

If you are a non-married progressive Christian or supportive friend of one and would like to be part of the conversation, please join this new Facebook group, Single in the Sanctuary.

Rev. Michelle L. Torigian is the pastor of St. Paul United Church of Christ, Old Blue Rock Road in Cincinnati, Ohio. Prior to ministry, Torigian worked in fundraising and marketing for nonprofits as her previous career. She graduated from Eden Theological Seminary in 2010. Torigian is the author of a number of articles on the Huffington Post Religion page including “Between Childless and Childfree,” a reflection for Mother’s Day. Recently, her essay “Always the Pastor, Never the Bride” was published in the book “There’s a Woman in the Pulpit” (Skylight Paths Publishing, 2015). Torigian regularly posts her musings on current events, justice issues, pop culture, and theology at www.michelletorigian.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/worshipping-solo-including-the-unmarried-in-our-pews/feed/3Dialogue is Not Enoughhttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/dialogue-is-not-enough/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/dialogue-is-not-enough/#commentsTue, 09 Feb 2016 13:30:10 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2836Foster Pinkney - February in the United States is a time for dialogue; a month is set aside to discuss the history of chattel slavery and the lived oppression of Black folk.]]>February in the United States is a time for dialogue; a month is set aside to discuss the history of chattel slavery and the lived oppression of Black folk. This discussion often takes place in the context of the Christian religion and established practices of charity and reconciliation.

But the very necessity of a month dedicated to mere remembrance ought to be offensive to a forward-thinking Christian – we must always be actively involved in the struggle against injustice. And this struggle must move beyond conversation and memory.

As followers of Jesus as the Christ, it is our call to interrogate and stand against the continuing legacy of slavery embodied in segregation, mass incarceration, and racialized poverty. We embody the belief that all are created equal, and this belief means that our dialogues always lead to right action and lived equality.

When I was in seminary, we often spoke of the homeless that slept in our doorways or on the heating grates of Riverside Church next door as part of our community. But how was community being defined, being lived, in our faiths? The voices of those on the street outside of our dorms were not included in the conversation, and the inescapable burden of institutional privilege persisted despite our good intentions.

Paul was wrong when he sent the slave Onesimus back to his oppressor. In the Letter of Paul to Philemon, Paul expressly relies on Philemon’s status as a follower of Jesus to open his heart to releasing his slave Onesimus – or at least Paul hopes that Philemon will avoid punishing Onesimus for stealing himself to freedom and service with Paul (Phm 8-9). Paul asks Philemon to accept Onesimus as a brother rather than a slave (Phm 16).

This is not the way of Jesus as the Christ. The Christian God is not for everyone – the acceptance of exploitation and dehumanization is opposed to the ethical burden of our religious practice.

It is important that we are not surface Christians like Philemon – people who profess the Gospel message while still relying on privilege and inequality to make our lives easy. But it is also important that we reject the stance of Paul in this letter – we demand equality and we live it out in our daily lives.

And we refuse to rely on empathy mitigated through simple charity to restore the balance in society.

In the salutation to the letter to Philemon, Paul refers to himself as “a prisoner of Christ Jesus (Phm 1).” What does it mean to be bound by our beliefs? What does it mean to move beyond dialogue to accountability – even amongst those we consider our brothers and sisters in the faith?

Jesus on the cross was a living indictment of a system of mass exploitation. We may never know the full mystery of God, but we do know that the world can be ordered towards God’s will through our teaching and our enacted faith.

So this February, let us remember and lift up Andrew Goodman, Michael Schwerner, James Chaney, and all the others who refused to limit their solidarity to conversation. They lived their commitment to the message and promise of equality.

Foster J. Pinkney is a writer, student, and organizer from Columbus, Ohio. He is a recent graduate from Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York and started attending the University of Chicago Divinity School in September 2015, to study for a PhD in Religious Ethics.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/dialogue-is-not-enough/feed/1No Super Bowl for Mehttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/no-super-bowl-for-me/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/no-super-bowl-for-me/#commentsSat, 06 Feb 2016 02:21:08 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2850Sharon Temple - For the first time ever, l am not watching the Super Bowl this Sunday.]]>For the first time ever, l am not watching the Super Bowl this Sunday.

After a lifetime of being a football fan, I have lost interest in the game. Football no longer is a fun diversion for me.

I began questioning my love of football in 2010, the year 21-year-old University of Penn football player Owen Thomas died by suicide. Owen was the son of United Church of Christ (UCC) pastors, a clergy couple who were my colleagues when we served together in the Penn Northeast Conference. Owen had recently been named captain of the football team. He had no history of depression or suicide threats.

Common symptoms of CTE include “loss of memory, difficulty controlling impulsive or erratic behavior, impaired judgment, behavioral disturbances including aggression and depression, difficulty with balance, and a gradual onset of dementia.” CTE can be mistakenly diagnosed as Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s disease or ALS.

CTE has been found post-mortem in National Football League (NFL) athletes who died by suicide, including Andre Waters and Terry Long. The story of Mike Webster, the first NFL player who was diagnosed with CTE, is the subject of the 2015 film Concussion.

My church—the United Church of Christ—has called for a boycott of the Washington Redskins as the NFL continues to defend the use of that racially-demeaning name. In calling for the boycott last June, the Rev. Linda Jaramillo declared, “The use of the term ‘Redskins’ for the team mascot and nickname of the Washington football team is offensive and causes direct harmful effects to the public health and well-being of the Native American population,” she said.

So, why aren’t we boycotting football altogether as a hazard to public health and well-being?

Professional football culture perpetually spawns cheating scandals, spouse abuse, sex trafficking, and drug abuse. These football extracurriculars—and the “news” reports of them—pollute our “public health and well-being.” I wonder if undiagnosed CTE can manifest as football players behaving badly.

With a heart more filled with sadness than blazing with protest, I have concluded that football no longer is an entertaining game for me.

During this Sunday’s Super Bowl, the vast majority of the players on the field will be playing with undiagnosed CTE. Over 100 million fans will cheer big-tackle plays that will hit their favorite players with further unseen brain injuries.

I will find something else to do this Sunday.

No Super Bowl for me.

Rev. Sharon M. Temple is the Designated Pastor of Brookmeade Congregational UCC in Nashville, Tennessee. She previously served congregations in Ohio, Pennsylvania and Louisiana as a settled pastor and as an interim specialist. Her essay ‘The Good Samaritan Test’ appears in ‘There’s a Woman in the Pulpit: Christian Women Share Their Hard Days, Holy Moments & the Healing Power of Humor.’ She blogs at revmama.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/no-super-bowl-for-me/feed/7How The Church is Different from Joe Camelhttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/how-the-church-is-different-from-joe-camel/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/how-the-church-is-different-from-joe-camel/#commentsThu, 04 Feb 2016 13:30:40 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2819Timothy Tutt - “Children are the future of the church.” If you’re a churchy type you’ve probably heard that. Maybe even said it.]]>“Children are the future of the church.” If you’re a churchy type you’ve probably heard that. Maybe even said it.

My own denomination, the United Church of Christ, which publishes this blog, used that phrase a few days ago. In tweeting out a great article about bringing kids to church, the UCC referred to young children as the future of the church.

I disagree.

Children are not the future of the church. Children are the present of the church.

Referring to kids as “the future” makes them sound like a commodity. It sounds like old(er) people saying, “We’ve got to have some younger whipper snappers around to take care of us in our old age (or take care of our institution).”

Or, “If you grow up and come back to church, you’ll have been worth it. Otherwise, nah.”

The kids-as-the-future approach seems to value young persons for who they may be tomorrow or what they do down the road, not who they are and the abilities they have in the moment.

Remember Joe Camel? He was the mascot for the cigarette brand, R.J. Reynolds. The tobacco company that produces Camel cigarettes allegedly used Joe Camel to target children as future smokers.

Okay, targeting kids as the future of the church is not as bad as targeting kids as future smokers, but the kids-as-future-church members idea sounds a little bit like that kind of marketing plan. It treat kids in a transactional kind of way.

Kids are not at church just to be taught skills for the future by adults. Adults can learn from kids. Try it sometime.

Here are five ideas:

If you are a grown up, volunteer in Sunday School. Sure, prepare the lesson, have the craft ready to go, make sure good snacks are on hand. But don’t just go follow the curriculum. If you read a Bible story, say to the kids, “I wonder how the Samaritan felt,” or “I wonder how that story makes you feel.”Then listen to them.

Sit near a family with kids. Draw funny pictures of the preacher on your bulletin, and pass it down the row to the kids. (I’m a preacher; it’s okay, I promise.)See how the children react. When you sing, “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing,” ask a child after church what an “Ebenezer” is. (When you find out, email me.)

Don’t have a Children’s Sunday. Have children’s Sundays. All the time. Ask a third grader to read the scripture. Invite a fifth grader to play a recorder. Let the first graders collect the offering. Don’t just do it on special occasions, or you run the risk of producing “look-how-cute-they-are” talent shows. Do it often so that their gifts are ongoing parts of the life of our community.

Find two or three other adults (in accordance with your church’s safe child policy – you have one, right?) and take a group of kids out to lunch or to get ice cream. Their parents would be thrilled, I promise. Ask the kids questions about school or soccer or God or ponies or movies. Treat the kids like present-day humans.

When someone says, “Kids are the future of the church,” smile kindly and say, “And they are the present too.”

Timothy Tutt is a wanderer, wonderer, husband, father, laugher, liberal, Texan-by-birth, Washingtonian-by-choice (yep, DC). He is the senior minister at Westmoreland Congregational United Church of Christ in Bethesda. Take a look at his blog ZenTexas.blogspot.com

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/how-the-church-is-different-from-joe-camel/feed/4What Lifting Weights Teaches Me About Being a Pastorhttp://newsacred.org/2016/02/what-lifting-weights-teaches-me-about-being-a-pastor/
http://newsacred.org/2016/02/what-lifting-weights-teaches-me-about-being-a-pastor/#commentsTue, 02 Feb 2016 13:30:11 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2800Emily Heath - Earlier this fall a new YMCA opened up in my town.]]>Earlier this fall a new YMCA opened up in my town. We joined, and before long I found myself migrating towards the free weights. I had done some strength training in college, and a little afterwards. In those cases, though, I’d stuck mainly to the weight machines that most gyms have, and stayed away from the barbells and heavy plates.

This time I wanted to try something different. I’ve always liked sports that emphasized strength over speed, like rugby and judo, and weight training had been a good complement for those things. But now I wanted to do strength training just for me.

The reality is that pastors rarely get an hour or so to themselves, and I wanted to use that time to do something totally removed from my work as a pastor. I also wanted to blow off some steam, and channel the average daily challenges of pastoring into something physical. And so, with a program recommended by a friend, I decided to give weightlifting a shot.

With every workout I was learning a little more about how to be a better pastor. In the months since I began lifting, here are just a few things I’ve discovered that lifting heavy weights and pastoring have in common:

BalanceIf you can’t keep your balance, you’re going to drop really heavy weights. If you’re lucky you’ll just drop them on the floor in front of the whole gym. If you’re not, you’ll drop them on yourself and get hurt. Until you can learn to balance the weights you’re already lifting, there’s no way you can add more.

The same is true for a pastor who is already overwhelmed and out of balance who tries to take on more responsibilities. Eventually you’ll lose your footing, and everything will fall down. It’s better to concentrate on the things you can reasonably manage first, and then add things only if you can remain balanced.

FormMy favorite lift is the bench press. I do five sets of five at a time, and each time I lift I try to add about five pounds. One of my favorite things about the bench press is that, unlike some lifts, you know if you are cheating or not. In order for the lift to “count,” you should touch your chest with the bar on the way down, and lock your elbows gently on the way up. The form becomes important when the weight gets heavy, because it’s tempting to not quite make it all the way down. But in the long run, taking the shortcut will only make it easier to take it again the next time. Eventually, bad form will take over, and the whole exercise will be pointless.

For pastors form matters too. That’s especially true around ethical matters. Most pastors I know who have been brought up on fitness review are good people who have developed bad form. They make a small misstep once, and there are no consequences. And so they do it again. And again. The only difference from lifting weights, though, is that in the end you don’t just hurt yourself; you hurt a lot of others too.

AppearanceYou never know who the strongest people in the gym are just by looking at them. The guy with the muscled arms looks strong, but that doesn’t mean much. Likewise, the heavy guy might not look like he can lift much, but then he bench presses 300 pounds. There’s a difference between lifting lighter weights over and over again so you can build six-pack abs, versus deadlifting 300 pounds to build strength. One is about how someone looks, and the other is about what they can do.

Churches can sometimes judge a potential pastor the way people judge one another at the gym. I tell search committees looking for a new pastor to look past appearances and look at abilities instead. The reality of too many churches is that the white, gender-conforming, able-bodied, well-heeled candidate will automatically have an edge. But that doesn’t mean they are necessarily the best candidate. In the end, look past appearances and for leaders who can actually do the “heavy lifting” your parish requires once the interviews are done and the real work begins.

RestIt’s tempting sometimes to think that the more often we do something, the better. That includes any kind of physical activity. At first I thought I was supposed to lift weights every day. I was surprised to learn that I only needed to do it three days a week. In fact, I was cautioned, doing it more often would actually hurt me. My body wouldn’t have time to recover, I’d be more prone to injury, and I would find myself stalling and never being able to add more weight.

That resonated with me as a pastor. I don’t know many pastors who don’t have a lot to do. It’s sometimes tempting not to take our weekly days off, or all our vacation time. We worry that people will think we aren’t working hard enough. But the reality is we need our time off. We need time to let ourselves rest, to recover, and to get ready to take on new challenges. Rest is not a bad thing; our very bodies know we need it. A pastor who takes the time to rest is not selfish; they are taking care of themselves so that they can be strong servants of God and their congregation for years to come.

Let me explain. I received a very generous fellowship due, in part, to the essay I wrote comparing Murray’s 1993 movie Groundhog Day to Augustine’s Confessions. I’ll spare you the academese of the original; in short, Murray’s disgruntled weatherman Phil Connors is doomed to a self-centered, profligate existence on torturous repeat, much like the “counterfeit liberty” of Augustine’s younger years. True freedom comes only when each learns to prioritize selfless love, generosity, and community.

Despite the film’s decidedly secular tone (I’m thinking drinking binges and bachelor auctions), the slow-burning epiphany which finally releases Phil from an eternity of February 2nds hparallels surprisingly well the arc of Christian discipleship..

No wonder the movie has made various faith-related top 10 lists–and not just Christian ones, either. Phil Connors’ journey from schmuck to saint resonates with the universal struggle to figure out what’s important in life and to live accordingly.

In recent years, Murray himself has become a kind of modern-day saint, heralded by hipsters who venerate his zany spontaneity as they pass on stories, urban legend-style, of his escapades. He’s just as likely to crash an engagement photo session as a kickball game; to ad-lib a conversation with teddy bears as a toast at a stranger’s bachelor party.

Yet even these wacky, apocryphal tales carry a deeper meaning for Murray. All of it is fueled by his desire to be in the moment, to connect, to “work your best at being you as often as you can,” to do something that’s going to “wake you up” even if you only succeed in feeling plugged in “for seconds, minutes a day.“

My favorite Bill Murray story is the time he struck up a conversation with a cab driver late at night. Upon discovering that his cabbie was passionate about the saxophone but that his job never allowed him time to play, Murray hopped behind the wheel and meandered through the streets of Los Angeles into the wee hours while the cab driver wailed on his sax in the back seat. Murray kept the meter running and paid the tab.

Recognizing others’ humanity, making space for the dreams of strangers and friends to flourish, being present enough to offer our time and attention where they can make someone’s day; these principles may read straight out of the Book of Bill, but they also layer seamlessly onto Jesus’ call to live our lives plugged into our Source, connected to each other and growing in love, generosity, and community as we labor to bring about the kindom on earth.

This Groundhog Day, do me a favor and watch the classic movie–both for laughs and life lessons. You might just be inspired to start living according to Phil Connor’s very first question when he wakes up on February 3, liberated at last: “Is there anything I can do for you, today?”

Rev. Leah Lyman Waldron is a thrift-vangelist, writer, preacher, preacher’s wife, mama, and Midwesterner transplanted to the South. She has a not-so-secret passion for pop music and loves being the lone millenial in her baby boomer-filled yoga class. Born & raised UCC, she’s bi-vocational, preaching at Decatur UCC in Atlanta every other Sunday while doing admin work at a big Presbyterian church during the week. She blogs at http://thriftshopchic.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/02/how-bill-murrays-groundhog-day-got-me-into-seminary/feed/4Death in the Digital Agehttp://newsacred.org/2016/01/death-in-the-digital-age/
http://newsacred.org/2016/01/death-in-the-digital-age/#commentsFri, 29 Jan 2016 13:30:04 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2811Susan Foster - The death was announced on Facebook.]]>The death was announced on Facebook. The unexpected, shocking news spread like wildfire as one person after another shared the sad posting.

Soon the grieving widower’s Facebook page was flooded with beautifully touching memories and lovely pictures of his deceased partner. On the plus side, the bereft family doesn’t feel quite so alone in this terrible time. Within seconds they started hearing from friends and relatives across the globe. The messages of love and caring offered real support and comfort.

But what to do with the awkwardness of Facebook? Does one “like” a status that carries such grievous news? If the status isn’t “liked,” does it indicate a lack of caring or attention? What is the “new normal” for responding to life events in the virtual age?

What sort of comment is appropriate? If one writes a heartfelt “I’m so sorry for your loss,” or “you are in my thoughts and prayers,” have the social obligations been met? Or does one still need to take that old-fashioned route of going to a store, buying a sympathy card, foraging for a stamp, and actually mailing a handwritten note?

But I wonder – does even the most carefully crafted Facebook post go far enough? Do people then feel released from the necessity of actually attending the funeral and listening to the eulogy because, after all, they’ve been in touch?

We can be messengers of the Good News that God is present – really with us – exactly when we need God most.

Sue Foster loves being a minister at the East Woodstock Congregational (UCC) Church in CT. She juggles her roles as pastor, wife, mother, and writer. She blogs at www.fosteringyourfaith.wordpress.com.

]]>http://newsacred.org/2016/01/death-in-the-digital-age/feed/10The Truth is Out Therehttp://newsacred.org/2016/01/the-truth-is-out-there/
Thu, 28 Jan 2016 13:30:39 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2823Chase Peeples - “The X-Files” is back. ]]>“The X-Files” is back. If you missed it the first time around, the TV show aired from 1993-2002 and spawned two movies. It told the stories of FBI agents Mulder (David Duchovny) and Scully (Gillian Anderson) who investigate paranormal events and expose a vast government conspiracy to cover up an extra-terrestrial invasion. I’m a fan of the original series, so for me it’s a nostalgia trip to watch the show again, but I’m not so sure the show’s mood fits the world we live in today.

A lot has changed since the show went off the air in 2002. As Anna North wrote in The New York Times, “To watch “The X-Files” in 2016 is a strange thing. The original television show was so much a child of the peaceful ’90s . . . and took place in a version of the United States where the government apparently had so few terrestrial problems to deal with that its highest priority was keeping its citizens in the dark about aliens. That America was never real, of course, but it feels especially far-off now. The post-“X-Files” era has brought with it not just the invasion of Iraq and the war on terror, but the rise of “truthers” and the politically inflected paranoia they spread. Conspiracy theorists now traffic in the idea that 9/11 was an inside job and that gun massacres like Sandy Hook are “false flags” cooked up so the government can confiscate guns.”

In today’s world when leading presidential candidates refuse to believe climate change is real but do believe White people are the real victims of “reverse racism,” watching “The X-Files” feels a bit too much like watching the nightly political news. The absurd reality of politics today has surpassed the speculative fiction of the 1990’s.

Don’t get me wrong, I still tuned in to watch Mulder and Scully investigate the cover up of the UFO crash in Roswell, NM, but when I watched “The X-Files” this week I couldn’t help but think that the real conspiracies we should be worrying about are the ones we are all complicit in. Damage to the environment that will take generations to correct, income inequality that crushes lives around the world, systemic racism that perpetuates violence against people of color and so many more systemic problems ensnare all of us. Where are the agents of change showing us how to escape the grip of these kinds of conspiracies?

The new version of “The X-Files” kept the same cheesy low budget opening credits of the original series which end with the words “The Truth is Out There” arrayed across the screen. The irony of the series, however is that every truth its characters discover only leads to less clarity and more questions. Today, we need help to cut through the spin and “dark money” to reveal truth to us. Jesus said, “The truth will set you free,” and we need to be free of the lies we tell to absolve ourselves of responsibility for our systemic problems. We need people who believe that the Truth may be “out there” but it also dwells “in us.” If we are willing to hear that voice of Truth which speaks from the depths of our being, then perhaps we can unravel the real conspiracies that threaten our world today.

Image from FOX

Chase Peeples is pastor of Country Club Congregational United Church of Christ along with a bunch of other things including a father, a husband and a friend.

]]>Looking for a Scapegoathttp://newsacred.org/2016/01/looking-for-a-scapegoat/
http://newsacred.org/2016/01/looking-for-a-scapegoat/#commentsWed, 27 Jan 2016 21:00:05 +0000http://newsacred.org/?p=2805Jeff Nelson - A few years ago, my pastoral colleagues passed around a picture on social media of a person crying with the caption, “When I was a kid, I thought everyone in the church got along.”]]>A few years ago, my pastoral colleagues passed around a picture on social media of a person crying with the caption, “When I was a kid, I thought everyone in the church got along.”

Identifying the source of the conflict in a church can be tricky, because what people are really upset about isn’t necessarily what they say they’re upset about.

Have you ever witnessed or been a part of a church argument that, after the fact, seemed strange?

Fights over not having enough tablecloths to use during a dinner. What the pastor wears on Sunday morning. A stain on the youth room carpet.

Seemingly small conflicts have real potential to divide a congregation, but may also not really be what the people involved are upset about.

One of my favorite sayings in ministry is, “this is not about that.” That is, whatever the presenting issue is (such as a complaint about tablecloths), is really about something else that won’t be as apparent (worries over finances that have resulted in no tablecloths).

People decide it is easier to voice the former than deal with the latter. The “this” is usually external and the fault of someone or something else. The “that” involves addressing something in the congregation’s life together.

These things involve a great deal of honesty and imagination to address and may involve a larger shift in direction that seems scary and uncertain.

Philosopher Rene Girard proposed that this is why people look for scapegoats. A group seeking relief from anxiety will subconsciously designate one person or subgroup as the cause of its problems. If only they were removed or marginalized, then we could finally move forward. Doing this is easier than addressing the underlying issues in which everyone has a part.

It may not come as a shock that churches do this. Attendance is down? It’s all those new people moving into the neighborhood. Logjam on an issue being discussed by the governing board? Blame the one providing the dissenting voice. Younger people don’t seem as interested in participating? It’s because the pastor isn’t doing enough.

Each of these issues has many more dynamics at play, but it’s simpler to blame someone or something instead of working to name and deal with the real cause.

But if faith communities had the courage and the patience to dig in, get their hands dirty, fess up to their anxiety and do that work (including apologizing to the scapegoats), how much of a difference would that make for the long term?

Jeff Nelson is a pastor, spiritual director, and writer. He lives with his wife and two children in Uniontown, Ohio, where he serves in ministry at Grace United Church of Christ. In his free time, he enjoys playing music, reading, and keeping up with Michigan sports teams. He regularly blogs about ministry, spirituality, and pop culture at http://www.coffeehousecontemplative.com.